


Fighting at your Side

by Emmybazy



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, King Jace, M/M, Prince Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmybazy/pseuds/Emmybazy
Summary: '“Your Highness, you are the True King whereas I will be lucky to serve you at whatever station you see fit once you have wedded my sister, the Princess Isabelle.”The King laughs at that, a bellow that sends a shiver down Alec’s spine, “Wed? I will do nothing of the sort.”“I have been ordered by my Queen not to return without you for the wedding. Both of our Kingdom’s will benefit greatly from this alliance and I will not go until I convince you of it.”The True King, back to Alec and eyes on the ocean, tilts his head, “then we are at an impasse.”'Or, Alec is a Prince tasked with bringing his sister's betrothed back to their kingdom. Jace is not a willing groom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a lot of notes and caveats for this one. Everything about writing this was completely for fun and because I needed a long fic where Alec is ridiculously loyal to Jace and there are swords. I started writing this right after 2b ended and have been going on and off since. I've read a few old timey/game of throne jalec aus and I LOVE all of them so had to join the party. It's very fitting for this pairing in my eyes. I've only seen the first 7 episodes of GOT so the only thing I took was the time period and the moniker of 'the Mad King'.
> 
> I tried to make this sound old timey by staying away from contractions and using long words. There are WILD historical inaccuracies becasue I did absolutely no research before writing this. My beta has only read the first chapter because she's very busy and her major comment was "good but none of the political structure makes sense." Please ignore how not correct all of this is and forgive me. 
> 
> I didn't tag the side relationships (Climon being the biggest but there will be a smidgeon of Rizzy) just becasue they're very small and pretty much only plot devices. There's very minimal violence that is not graphic too.
> 
> Also- I think a lot of people will feel Alec is out of character in this- suspend the disbelief further and imagine Alec growing up believing he was not supposed to be a leader but to be someone's advisor and protector. I think he'd throw himself into that role just as much as he throws himself into being head of the institute if that's how he's brought up by his parents. 
> 
> Anyways- old timey language and historical inaccuracies lie ahead. Also a lot of heavy stares. Read at your own will. Thanks so much in advance!

“Prince Alexander, the Queen would like to see you.”

“Of course,” Alec sets down his book and follows his mother’s advisor through the court. He guesses the meaning for the visit, his sister approaching a suitable marrying age.

“Alec, my love,” his mother greets him, standing from her desk when he enters her and his father’s study. His father continues to write on parchment, his fiscal advisor at his right hand.

“Mother, you wished to see me?” Alec perches on the velvet cushion atop the wooden chair in front of her ornate desk.

“Yes, dear. It is time for your trip,” his mother reaches out to hold his hand, “I knew this day would come eventually but it is still far too soon.”

“I will not be gone long. The Sea Kingdom is only a week’s ride away. I will be back within the month.”

“I know darling,” she holds his hand with both of hers, eyes bright, “And you will do us a great honor in escorting your sister’s betrothed back to us.”

“And not a minute too soon,” the King states from his perch, “we need the treaty with the Herondale line to be solidified. The Belacourts are getting desperate for our northern farmlands. This alliance will keep them at bay.”

“I will take three days preparation before I leave and will return with the True King,” Alec nods his head at his father. He turns back to the Queen, “He is aware of the treaty and willing to comply?”

His mother straightens her back, “He is aware, yes. Willing does not matter, he must follow through on the treaty.” She drops Alec’s hand, turns to her papers and grabs one out, “If he does not listen, give him this. It is the trade routes we will close to his borders if he does not come with you. Make sure to pack a portrait of Isabelle when you ride, show him the beauty that waits for him here.”

“Certainly mother,” Alec stands, parchment in hand, “I will not delay.”

Alec departs as swiftly as he had come, heading to the stables to prepare for his journey.

*****

The first night, Alec and Rafael set up camp in a small cave in the mountains. They find a brook nearby and wash the dust from the road from their faces.

“The Princess deserves better than this monster for a husband,” Rafael sours as they stoke the fire.

“Don’t speak ill of royalty,” Alec quips with a grin. Rafael slaps Alec’s arm for the jest and returns to skinning the rabbit they caught for dinner.

“Are you not worried for Isabelle?” Rafael insists, “She deserves a gentle and loving man, not to be shackled up with some beast.”

“He is not a beast,” Alec scoffs at his dear friend’s exaggeration.

“He killed the man who raised him the first chance he got!”

Alec leans forward, “He saved an entire kingdom by slaying their mad King, the same man who had killed the True King's father and mother before he was out of the womb. He regrew a failing economy before he could grow a beard.”

“You admire him? He killed any man who bore the old King’s mark. He has made no peace keeping visits to any of the surrounding kingdoms.” Rafael skewers the meat onto a branch and holds it over the fire, “He will be a cool and distant man with the Princess and most likely a selfish lover. A man who has seen so much destruction and caused half of it cannot love a woman as dear as Isabelle.”

Alec reclines against a tree trunk. He carries a handkerchief and a small portrait of Isabelle in his breast pocket. He has never had the luxury of Rafael, believing marriage should be for love and not political fortune. Similarly, Isabelle has always known her future. She knows the story of the treaty signed by the Herondales and the Lightwoods before Celine Herondale’s baby was born. If a girl, the baby was to marry Alec, three years old at the time. If a boy, he’d be betrothed to the first daughter born to the Lightwoods. The union would link the kingdoms into one, more powerful and larger than any other with the male heir taking the position as King. Alec’s fate as high advisor was sealed from the True King’s conception.

Alec picks up his knife and a piece of the wood they’d gathered for the fire. Shortly after the treaty had been signed, the Mad King had taken over the Herondale Kingdom. Valentine, one of the King Herondale’s knights, had stuck a sword in the King’s back and declared himself ruler. His supporters had come out of the woodwork.

The story goes that King Valentine, the Mad King, cut the baby from Celine’s womb when she still had months of her pregnancy to grow. He raised the baby as his son, with his own children. Fourteen years later, word had travelled that the True King, King Herondale, had stabbed the Mad King in the same way the Mad King had taken his father’s life.

Alec had been 18 at the time, a squire with Rafael. Alec’s father had sent troops to aid the True King in winning back his kingdom and Rafael and Alec had sat in the knights’ chambers, undressing their bloodied armor and hearing stories of the bloodshed. They told of a King at the front lines of a war, barely strong enough to wield a sword, cutting down soldiers with his rage. Alec would hide in Izzy’s room at night and tell her the stories of her betrothed, the True King’s ferocity and his need to protect. He’d pet her hair and reassure her, a man who would risk his life for his kingdom would certainly risk more for her.

“You are rattled as you will no longer have her eye,” Alec smirks.

Rafael gasps, eyes wide, “My friend, I would never. She is the Princess.”

“She is also your obsession. You follow her around like a puppy follows its owner.”

Rafael stares into the fire, “She is not my owner nor is she my obsession.” He pauses, turns the meat, “But she has my heart. I shall protect her as I protect you, with my whole heart and little care for my own life.”

Alec lets the confession sit with them at the fire, a third person they’ve never addressed before. Alec crosses his arms, “You’re over cooking the rabbit.”

“You have to overcook it to get rid of the gamey flavor,” Rafael intones.

“You heathen, purposefully making our dinner tough,” Alec tosses the terrible squirrel he’d been trying to widdle into the fire.

“It will be tough either way, it is rabbit. There is only so much meat on the bones,” Rafael explains and Alec takes it as it is, allowing them to settle into silence as the fire crackles and the forest chirps around them.

*****

The gates of the Herondale castle stand tall before them. A guard calls over the side, “Who wishes to enter the inner hearth of the True King.”

“Prince Alexander from the North and his most trusted knight,” Alec calls back. They have gone through three rings to get to this one, centered closest to the water of all of them. The first ring had been of farmland, the second the peasants, and the third the merchants. Alec and Rafael had circled to three different gates, expecting to find a way for nobles to get into the castle, but no guards had been at any of the other gates. The only one staffed was the grandest and the most heavily protected.

“We welcome you, your Highness,” the gate begins to lower. Rafael and Alec ready their steeds to cross the bridge.

Once over the bridge, it is drawn, closing out the noise of the city behind them. Alec cocks his head, looking at his surroundings. He only spies guards along the path up to the main castle doors, very few of them at that, mostly along the gate wall.

“Where is everyone?” Rafael asks, trotting next to Alec up to the steps.

“I’ve never seen a castle courtyard so barren,” Alec responds. At the stairway to the castle, no stable hand or servant comes to greet them. They dismount after a few moments. They tie their horses reigns together and loop it around a post, Alec gathering the few items necessary for their first impression.

“Do we approach?” Alec asks Rafael who shrugs in response. They walk up the stone stairway to the large wooden doors of the castle. One is slightly ajar so they push their way in and find themselves, again, in an empty hallway.

“This is the royal castle?” Rafael walks the ornate but empty hall. “With no one to guard at the door?”

“I had thought it would be full of security based on the stories of the True King.” Alec muses, “Go back and wait with the horses. I will call you if I find anyone who can help.”

“I do not think it is a good idea to leave you alone in unfamiliar territory,” Rafael mutters.

“I do not think you rank higher than me and thus will do as I ask,” Rafael shakes his head at Alec’s smirks, “I will be fine. There is no one here to attack me.”

“As you wish Sir,” Rafael walks back to the door with a mocking bow of his chin. Alec rolls his eyes at him before stepping further into the castle keep.

He walks down hall after hall, expecting to run into at least a scullery maid but no, there is no one. The walls are lavish, covered in carpets and with golden statues in the vestibules. Alec walks and follows his ears, a roaring sound coming clearer and clearer through the walls.

Alec turns a corner and before him is the ocean. He is stood on a grand balcony overlooking the sea, waves rolling, colliding, and spraying practically at his fingertips. He steps out onto the balcony, putting his hands on the smooth stone wall keeping him from the sea. He has heard about the ocean before, seen lakes and great rivers, but the expanse before him is addicting.

Suddenly, he feels a prick against the back of his neck, “Are you truly the Prince of the North, or are you a fraud using that cover to enter my castle?”

Alec stays perfectly still, hands steady on the stone, “Your guards let me in without verification of my identity?”

The True King sighs, “There were only two of you, you posed no real threat to me whether you were telling the truth or lying. So which one is it?”

“The truth. It is a pleasure to meet you, your Highness, even if I have not yet seen your face.”

The rapier is lowered from the back of Alec’s neck “Hopefully your impression of me will not be spoiled by my appearance.”

Alec turns.

Alec’s breath had been stolen when he’d seen the sea. His soul is stolen when he sees the True King. He clenches his hands at his side, back firm as he keep his eyes on the Prince’s face. The King’s hair is tied back with a ribbon, Alec wants to untie it and let the breeze sweep he spun gold from the True King’s neck. The King is an angel sent from the heavens to taunt Alec, that if Alec were a woman he would have been able to cherish this man all his life.

Alec kneels at the King’s feet, “Your Highness.”

“Why do you kneel? We are of similar station, are we not?” Alec looks up from his position bent on to the ground to see the True King sheath his sword at his waist.

“Your Highness, you are the True King whereas I will be lucky to serve you at whatever station you see fit once you have wedded my sister, the Princess Isabelle.”

The King laughs at that, a bellow that sends a shiver down Alec’s spine, “Wed? I will do nothing of the sort.”

“Your Highness?”

“I have told Queen Maryse in a multitude of letters that she cannot expect me to follow a treaty set by my parents when I have never taken a breath at the same time as them. No, there will be no wedding. If she has sent you to convince me, then know it is her folley for thinking I could be swayed.”

“Your Highness, sir-”

“Stand Prince, have some dignity,” the True King bounces up onto the marble and sits, knees spread as he watches out over the ocean. Alec stays kneeling, with no dignity to claim.

“I have been ordered by my Queen not to return without you for the wedding. Both of our Kingdom’s will benefit greatly from this alliance and I will not go until I convince you of it.”

The True King, back to Alec and eyes on the ocean, tilts his head, “then we are at an impasse, you refusing to go without me and me refusing to go with you.” A grin spreads wide over the King’s face and Alec feels his knees melt into the stone, “Clary?”

“Yes?” A woman slides out from the doorway, shocking Alec into standing.

“Prepare two rooms in the East Wing of the castle. We will be entertaining guests for the first time in many years.” The True King swings around and shoves off the railing, patting the woman’s shoulder as he walks back into the castle, “tell Jocelyn to make something wretched for dinner. We must convince them not to stay long.”

The woman rolls her eyes, muttering in the King’s wake, “Yes, because some new faces in the castle will be such a trouble.” She turns to Alec, affecting a small bow, “Your Highness, it is good to meet you. Your rooms will be prepared swiftly and dinner will be served at sundown. Feel free to familiarize yourself with the castle until then and do invite your companion in.” Without a word from Alec to dismiss her, she turns on her heel and steps back into the castle.

Alec has the intention of following after her but instead, turns back to the sea. He watches the waves roll as he tries to stop the quivering of his hand in time to the staccato beat of his heart.

******

“Sirs, do your rooms suit you?” Clary asks as Rafael and Alec walk into the dark dining hall. They had watched the sunset moments ago from the balcony, watching the light play across the ocean and reflecting back. They’d torn their eyes away at the last moment, mesmerized.

“Yes, thank you for your hospitality,” Alec nods his head at Clary. He takes a seat to the right of the head of the table, Rafael sitting beside him, “Who else will be joining us for dinner?”

“Just Jace and my mother,” Clary puts a tray of breads on the table and, to Alec’s shock, sits at the seat across from Rafael, “Simon will be back by lunchtime tomorrow.”

Rafael is struck dumb next to him so Alec asks, “And who is Jace?”

She scrunches her eyebrow, “Jace? You met him earlier, the King?”

“You have the nerve to call his Highness the True King by his Christian name?” Rafael stands when he speaks, towering over Clary across the table from him.

“No, his Christian name is Jonathan Christopher, Jace is a nickname,” Clary crosses her arms and reclines in her chair. The edge of defiance in her eyes reminds Alec of the True King. Her clothes are simple, higher than a maid yet she seems to do the work of one. A woman who carries herself like a princess and prepares rooms. Alec takes a sip of wine and ponders her position.

“Clarissa,” A woman his mother’s age enters the room, two platters of food held aloft, “Be welcoming to our guests. Apologies my lords, she was not raised in the ways of foreign courts. As you can imagine, this castle had not been a place of peace in her formative years.” The woman, who must be Jocelyn, the cook, sets the platters at the table. Each is piled high with seafood and stewed vegetables.

“Of course ma’am, we understand,” Alec directs the last bit to Rafael whose shoulders drop with a huff.

“Thank you, now, let’s begin,” she stands on the other side of the table and reaches for Alec’s plate, “What can I serve you, my lord?”

Alec startles, “But the True King is not here yet.”

“He’ll stumble in at some point when he feels like it and smells the food growing cold,” Jocelyn reassures. Alec does not feel at ease in this palace of strange customs.

“Would you not serve him first? The best of the meal?”

Clary sets her elbow on the table, “He knows when dinner is, if he’s late, that’s his own fault.”

“Don’t worry after him, your Highness. Here,” she hands him back the plate piled high with a variety of the dishes, “I made our best for your first night with us.”

“Thank you,” Alec has rarely thanked his servers, not a necessity in any other court but he is sure to not say it would be frowned upon here.

“And your plate sir,” Jocelyn extends a hand for Rafael’s plate.

“Thank you ma’am,” Rafael follows Alec’s suit, the dutiful knight.

“You’re welcome, please, enjoy,” she begins to fill her plate as Clary sticks her fork into a shrimp onto a platter in front of her. She chews and hums, grabbing another with her fork before Jocelyn passes the serving spoon to her. Alec pauses with first forkful of food halfway to his mouth while Clary glares at him.

“I’ve been told I’m quite the beauty but never have I stopped a man from eating,” she quips.

“Clarissa!”

“No, it is my turn to apologize,” Alec states, “I have travelled on many a diplomatic trip around the kingdoms and so far, this experience in your keep is unlike any other. My companion and I are a bit surprised but we don’t mean any disrespect.”

Jocelyn nods, “Yes, it is quite different here. We have not allowed visitors in quite some time. Jace prefers to keep only a few he explicitly trusts within arms reach.”

“I do understand that, but why are there not more guards in the castle proper?” Alec sets his fork down to ask his prying questions, “No one stopped us on our path once we were past the gate. If we had not been who we said we were, we could have wreaked havoc.”

“Jace was watching you from the moment your horse set foot off the bridge, I with him,” Clary reveals as if she’s talking about the weather, “You were no threat to us. As for the lack of guards, it was my father’s winning over of the knights that was the undoing of Jace’s father.”

Alec and Rafael still, Alec’s hand gripping the armrest of his chair and Rafael nearly dropping his glass of wine. Rafael asks the question, “Your father? The Mad King?”

“I have always pulled for the Terrible King or the Criminal King,” she sighs, plopping another shrimp in her mouth and chewing as she talks, “By calling him mad, it forgives his actions with insanity when truly he was the devil on this earth.”

“Clary,” her mother scolds, “Do not air the family's laundry to our guest. Had you not thought that Jace did not want our guests to know who they broke bread with?”

“Of course I want our guests to know!” they all turn at the voice, Alec nearly breaking his neck in his haste. The King walks into the room from a back door, “They will be staying for quite some time. Have you heard mother? Prince Alexander will be staying until I decide to go back to the North with him to wed his sister. You will be cooking for six for quite some time.” The King plops into his seat at the head of the table, pulling the serving tray closest to him, “Did I not say to make something terrible to discourage their stay?”

“Jonathan, do remember your station,” Jocelyn warns.

The King ignores her, “I should have known it would be impossible for you to cook something ghastly. Everything you touch turns to gold.” He digs into his food with abandon and it’s then that Alec notices the dirt caked to his peasant’s trousers and loose chemise, clothes lacking any of the grandeur the opulent tunic he’d been wearing when Alec first saw him had.

“Madam, I do agree. The food is excellent,” Alec praises, ignoring the King the best he can, “I’ve never had fish so fresh before, only salted and dried.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Jocelyn smiles, “Tomorrow I will make crustacean for you, it is a true delicacy that doesn’t ship well. I’m sure you’ve never had it before and you will become addicted to it.”

“I do look forward to it, seeing as I will be here for such a long time,” Alec smiles at her and continues to pick at his plate. He fights every urge to meet the eyes of the King, boring holes into Alec’s cheek.

******

“Your Highness,” Alec rushes to catch up with the King on his trip out of the dining room.

“While I appreciate your deference and your grovelling, shall we concede to Jace and Alexander while you are taking up residence here?” the King doesn’t look over his shoulder as he speaks.

“Only my family may call me Alexander, so certainly if you will wed my sister.” The words are heavy on his tongue. It has been only half a day yet he feels the sting at the idea of Izzy and this King touching.

“Princey, you must know, this is not about your sister,” the King sighs, “It is about marriage. I do not need your courts and your treaties to protect my kingdom, I do fine on my own with an empty bed.”

“You will wed eventually, you must produce an heir,” Alec argues.

“Must, should, can, will. It is all up for debate,” the King pulls open a heavy, unassuming, wooden door leading into a small antechamber to a bedroom, “Can this wait until the morning?” The King pulls the door behind him.

Alec steps forward and places his body into the space between the door and the jamb, “I thought must, should, can and will were up for debate?” The King drops the handle and quirks an eyebrow, “It can wait but it will not.”

Alec floats when the King grins at him. The lift of his lip spreads across the King’s face and Alec almost loses his resolve. Instead, he steps into the room and shuts the door behind him.

“Your first night here and in the King’s chambers already. How improper,” the King crosses his arms and leans against the doorway connecting the two rooms.

“These are your chambers?” Alec sees a modest fireplace, two simple arm chairs. It is hardly suited for a guest chamber, let alone a King’s.

“Passing judgement on my space is certainly not endearing me to you,” the King quips, “Now, what is the matter at hand that will not wait until morning?”

“I come bearing three presents for you to rest on your pillow this night,” Alec pulls them from the breast pocket of his jacket, “First, a portrait of your lovely betrothed, Isabelle.

The King takes the offered miniature, “Did you instruct the painter to leave out her unsightly moles and receding hairline?”

“There was nothing unsightly for the artist to leave out, she is the finest ruby in a sea of gems. My second gift is her handkerchief, kept close to heart for a week before being brought to you.”

The King sniffs the cloth, “Ah, what a lovely body odor.”

Alec smiles wide for the kill, “I expected your reception would be as such. Thus, the third gift,” he hands over the parchment, “A letter from my mother, the Queen, detailing which trade routes to your kingdom she will cut. I look forward to our discussion of our upcoming travels in the morning.” Alec turns on his heel and walks out the King’s door with no proper good night wished.

*****

Alec and Rafael meet outside of Alec’s suite door the following morning.

“Be ready to leave my friend,” Alec straightens his tunic, “I gave him Mother’s orders last night, he should announce his intentions at breakfast this morning and we will be gone by sunrise tomorrow.”

“Not a moment too soon, the air tastes of salt here. Poor Isabelle, spending her days breathing it in with the infernal sun beating on her face.”

“I think she will enjoy it,” Alec leads them toward the dining hall, “She has always enjoyed fish and hates court etiquette. She will fit right in with this Clary woman.”

Rafael clenches his jaw, “Agreed. She may find enjoyable companionship here after all.”

“Yes, we must hope for her best,” Alec pushes open the doors, making a sweeping entrance, “Good morning.”

“Good Morning your Highness,” Jocelyn performs a shallow curtsy from where she cuts the bread, “I would hope you slept well?”

“Indeed, the arrangements were very comfortable,” Alec again takes the seat to the King‘s right, Rafael sitting next to him, “Where are the others?”

“Jace and Clary went to help Simon, he docked this morning at dawn so they shouldn’t be much longer. Do help yourselves before they come, the bread is fresh from the oven.” She sets the tray in front of Alec and turns back to the kitchens.

When she is out of earshot, Rafael turns to Alec, mumbling, “They do have such odd customs here, eating without the King? I cannot imagine your father’s reaction if we began dinner without his blessings on the food.”

“It must be the salt air clogging their brains, thinking that propriety is of no consequence,” Alec sets back, napkin spread on his lap, “We shall wait for the King and those in his employ before we begin.”

“Of course sir, it wounds me you had to say it,” Rafael purses his lips and Alec chuckles at his expression.

“Say, would you want to move here with Isabelle? Will you leave me alone in the North to watch over her here?”

“I do as you wish my Prince,” Rafael nods, “Do I want you to order me to her side, no. I do not think I could stand to be near to her and know she is happy without me being a part of it.”

“Good, I would not have allowed it either way,” Alec grins, extending his arm to Rafael. Rafael grasps his forearm and Alec grasps his in return.

With more gusto than Alec’s entrance, the King pushes through the main dining room doors, “Good morning sleepy heads, how was your lie in?” The King is flanked by a man who must be Simon and Clary, wearing men’s pants of all things.

“Lie in, your Highness? We were up at dawn,” Alec begs the question, eyes on the King as he marches to the table.

“At dawn I was tossing crates in the port,” The King snatches a piece of bread from the table, dirt smearing on the delicate piece from the King’s hands. The King eats around the brown spots.

“As we are not heathens,” Clary calls from near the kitchen, “We are going to wash up before our morning meal.” She looks pointedly at The King. He rolls his eyes, stuffs the last good bit of bread in his mouth, sets the tainted bits next to his plate, and darts after them.

“One moment, we will return shortly with my mother in tow to begin,” the King turns right before he is through the door, “And of course, we must introduce you to Simon!” With that, he disappears from sight.

“Tossing crates?” Alec rears back, shock apparent in his voice and on his face, “What type of King spends his time tossing crates at the port?”

“A humble one,” Rafael muses. Alec bites the corner of his lip, the image of the True King slapping the backs of sailors as he picks his way down the dock, stopping to help those who need it. Alec internalizes a soft sound.

“There is nothing humble about bragging about it to your guests,” Alec points out, masking his true inclination.

The four make their way back into the dining hall, the True King laughing at the whispers from the gentleman, “You are too right my friend, I cannot wait to hear further of your travels.” The King sits at the head of the table, “We will have so much time together since I have no intention to go north to claim a bride.”

“What,” Alec seethes, “do you mean?”

The jovial air at the table shifts as the King grabs another piece of bread and begins to butter it, everyone else at the table still, “Exactly that. I will not be returning with you and we will consider the treaty, a treaty my kingdom committed to before I was born, let alone King, broken.”

“My mother will cease trade with you and block your routes to other Kingdoms-”

“No she won’t,” the King reclines in his chair, “I believe I am calling her bluff.”

“Jace,” Jocelyn murmurs, “It is not wise to make an enemy of the North.”

“I understand Mother, but I will not marry. Not this woman, not any other. I will not be bullied into a decision I do not want to make.”

“You will not marry?!” Alec slams his hands upon the table, “That’s ridiculous, you will need an heir!”

“There is a line of succession after me, fear not, I know you are so concerned of my kingdom’s future,” the King slaps his knee playfully, “Now, will someone pass the eggs please.”

“You are making a grave mistake,” Rafael, voice grave, pipes up, “Princess Isabelle is the greatest of treasures. Men would sell their souls to look upon her face. She will make a wonderful queen and you will not disrespect her like this.”

The King stares at Rafael, “So you do have a voice. I have nothing against your Princess. I’m sure she is a wonderful woman and she will still make a marvellous queen, but in a Kingdom other than mine. I will not budge from this direction, please tell Queen Maryse that threats against me will not be capitulated to and threats against my people will be met with military retaliation.” Jace grimaces for a moment longer before turning to Clary, “Please, sister, pass me the eggs.”

In silence, Alec stands, cutlery untouched. He refuses to look at the King, “Lady Jocelyn, thank you for the food. Know that I am not ungrateful. I have lost my appetite.” He gives her a curt nod and walks away from the table, Rafael at his heels.

They find their way out to the grand balcony looking over the sea, the sun behind the castle and the water calm. Alec walks up to the wall, rubs his palm against the rough stone.

“What is our next course of action, my lord?” Rafael stands still beside him, waiting for his command as he has been taught to do.

“Can you make the journey back alone?”

“I believe so,” Rafael nods, “it would take a few days longer as I would want to stay in villages rather than along the trail, but I can be back North within the week.”

“Go then,” Alec meets his faithful knight’s eyes, “Tell them the Prince has wished for more time for preparation as he is not set up to welcome his Queen into his home. We will send word when we are a fortnight away from arriving but we do not know how long that will be.”

“Sir-”

“I will convince him Rafael,” Alec puts his hand on his shoulder, “This is my first major diplomatic assignment, I can not fail. I will convince him this is what is best. Give me two months, we will be back to the North ready for Isabelle. Please, I know you have complete loyalty to the King, but know I will always be loyal to you as well.”

“Of course my lord,” Rafael bows his head, “I will leave immediately.”

“Thanks you, safe travels my dear friend,” Alec watches him go, plotting the long game against the King as Rafael’s steps echo down the hall.

*****

Alec goes back to his room, looking through his few bags to see what he brought. He was not expecting a long stay and does not have any quills or parchment. He opens drawers to desks and wardrobes, looking for any tool at all, coming up empty handed.

His stomach growls not long after and, tail between his legs, he turns back to the kitchens. He follows the crisscrossing stone passageways around the dining hall, looking for a servant’s entrance to the kitchens, finding one tucked away beneath a stairwell.

It smells of rosemary and thyme as he enters. Jocelyn is kneading bread and humming, she turns when she hears the door shut, “Expected to see you back here.”

“Apologies, I did not mean to intrude.”

“Please, take a seat,” she wipes her hands on a towel round her waist and walks to the hearth, pulling a covered plate away from the flame, “I saved what I could of breakfast. Simon has quite the appetite after his travels.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Alec accepts the plate, “Who is Simon? We were not properly introduced earlier.”

“Yes, Jace does have quite the flair for the dramatics,” Jocelyn purses her lips around a smile, “Simon has been with us for many years, working around the castle. He has Jace’s explicit trust. He and Clary are to be wed in the fall after he voyages once more.”

“Where does he go?”

“The other Kingdom’s along the sea, never far. Longer than a few weeks away and he and Clary both become insufferable,” she pulls and twists the bread, not taking her eyes off the dough, “It will be nice to officially add another person to the family.”

Alec chews some oatmeal, swallows slowly, “May I ask something? You are welcome to refuse an answer.”

“Of course, I don’t have anything to hide.”

“The King,” Alec murmurs, “He calls you mother.”

Jocelyn’s hands stop on the block. She nods her head once before looking up at Alec, “I am his mother in every way but blood.”

“But he- your husband-”

“My husband was not a good man,” Jocelyn sits heavily in a stool behind her, “For the first few years of our marriage, I was content. He loved me passionately and loved the King. I have always been unsure of the exact argument that set him off but I know they fought over the feudal system in place,” Alec puts his fork down, settling in for a longer tale, “He hid much of the coup from me until the day he rode through the streets with the King’s head on the end of his sword.” Her eyes are sour with memories but she forces a small grin, “I had just given birth to our first child.”

“Clary?”

“No, Sebastian. He stayed loyal to the Mad King after Jace took over his rightful spot on the throne. Executed with the rest.”

“Executed? The King executed both your husband and your son and you cook his meals?” Alec is struck by the absurdity of the situation, almost falling out of his chair.

“Jace is kind and good,” Jocelyn’s hand curls into a fist where it sits on the table, “He showed mercy to Clary and I for he knew he could trust us and that we were not in agreement with my husband’s flair for ruling. Clary was only eleven when Jace took command. Sebastian had been fifteen. He made three attempts on Jace’s life after the Mad King died. I respect Jace’s decision and blame my late husband every day for the corruption he taught our first child. If not for his bloodlust, I would still see all three of my children each day.”

Jocelyn stares into the hearth, the flames reflecting back in her eyes. Alec notices the many lines on her weary face and the grey of her hair, signs of a long and heavy life. He spears a few more bites of potatoes and stands.

“Thank you for sharing your story and answering my question,” Alec bows his head slightly.

“Of course. Know he truly means no offense in his dealings. He is brash and foolhardy because he earned the right to be so young. He only trusts three people in the world, everyone else he is suspect.”

“I understand his concerns. I will not push so hard going forward.”

Jocelyn perks up, “You will continue?”

“I must,” Alec rises, plate in hand, and heads to the washbins, “Your kingdom is not the only one that needs an heir. I am responsible for bringing back the sire of that heir. Your son has only shown his further worth and rightness of his title in the past day. I cannot give up.”

He washes his dish. Jocelyn stands and walks next to him, grabbing a rag from a cupboard and offering it to Alec when the dish is clean.

“For what my word is worth,” Jocelyn takes the plate from him, “I want him to find a companion. He should not be so lonely.”

Alec lets that settle as approval for his plan, “Thank you for breakfast ma’am.” He nods his head and walks back out of the kitchen in search of a library.

*****

Mid-afternoon, Alec walks to the King’s chambers. He knocks once, not expecting a response. He doesn’t get one. He pushes the door open and makes himself comfortable on a wingback chair in the antechamber of the King’s room.

It’s a modest space. A chimney sits across from him, clean from lack of use more than tidying. There are only a few book shelves packed with books on governance. A pair of black leather boots lie in the corner, tongues hanging out and souls worn. Alec only glances into the King’s bedroom, the stark white sheets spread across a large bed.

“Twice in as many days,” Alec turns back to the door, the King standing there, covered in muck yet again, “don’t bring my name down into the scandal with yours.”

“Your Highness,” Alec stands to bow at the waist but instead redirects to his knees in front of the King once again.

“Jace, and you are Alec. Stand man, royal knees are not meant to take the pain of kneeling,” The King untucks the blouse he’s wearing and tosses it into a corner of his room, Alec stumbling to follow him into his bed chambers. The King walks to a small wash basin and wets a cloth to clean his face.

“Where would a King spend his time that covers him in such filth?” Alec asks, taking a seat on a stool against a wall.

“The stables,” The King answers with no additional information.

“You must have a stable boy to do the work?”

“I do, but he only comes twice a week and horses, believe it or not, must be fed daily,” Jace quips, streaks of grime rolling down his chest as he wets his upper body. Alec’s mouth snaps shut and his eyes shift to the ceiling, “I see you did not leave with your Knight?”

“No your Highness,” Alec leans back against the wall, “I have found a solution to our mutual problem.”

“I do not have a problem, you are the one with a problem.”

“The marriage treaty,” Alec states, “is technically binding whether you signed it or not so that is, in fact, your problem. But, we can draw up a new one.”

“A new marriage treaty?”

“No, we do not have to tie it with marriage. There can be exchange of goods or wealth rather than a marital alliance,” Alec prays quickly to God to forgive him for his lies to royalty, “I sent Rafael away to let my mother know I would be negotiating on our behalf. We can write a new treaty that both parties are content with that can carry into the future. For if you do not wed my sister, I will one day be King of the North.”

The King turns at that, eyes narrowed, “Is that what this is really about? You come in here cocksure to put me off? Hope that I renounce your sister so you can gain control? Lucky for you, I do not care who rules the North as long as it is not me.”

“My King, the True King,” Alec stands, “I believe you are the rightful holder of that title and I myself will never be remembered with the honor and glory that you have already amassed. I was looking forward to being your humble and loyal advisor for the North and spending my days at you and my sister’s beck and call. Do not,” his voice breaks, “imply such greed when you do not know how it stings.”

The King leans against his wash basin, towel forgotten, “How can you promise such loyalty when you’ve known me less than a day?” Alec bends to his knees, “Not this again, get up man!”

“Your Highness,” Alec lowers himself nearly to the ground, “I have heard the tales. Whether exaggerated or not, they hold real fact. Before there was a beard on your face you reclaimed a kingdom from an unjust ruler. You fought his followers at the frontline and showed mercy where mercy was needed and justice when it was better suited. You have lifted a Kingdom in squalor back to the height it was when it was stolen from your parents in less than a decade.” Alec raises his head, meets the King’s gaze, “It was sealed at your birth that I would serve you always, I was raised to fall to my knees at your feet. But you, and your courage, fairness, make me proud to do so.”

The King stares at Alec prone on the ground. He cocks his head, “I cannot figure you out Princey. I do not trust your pledged loyalty and cannot read your heart’s true intentions,” The King purses his lips, turning back to the wash bin, “To have my trust, you must earn it. Once I find you suitable, we will begin discussion on the new treaty.”

“Thank you my King,” Alec stands and walks to the door.

“Alec,” Alec turns to the King, “You have seen me partially disrobed. My name is Jace.”

Alec nods, hand on the door frame in between the bedroom and antechamber, “I will use it once I have earned the right, my King.”

Alec walks out, heels clacking against the stone floors of the hall. His brain turns, separating the equal parts of his desire. He must focus on bringing the King back to the North to claim Isabelle as his bride, setting up Alec’s life to dutifully serve this King. He pushes down the flame that fills him at the thought of spending his life so close to his King.

*****

The next morning, Alec rises early and heads to the dining hall. To his surprise, the ensemble is already there, waiting for him.

“Good Morning Sleepyhead,” The King tuts, his feet perched on the edge of the table.

“It is not even dawn,” Alec grumbles, but takes the seat to the right of the King as has become custom.

“Jace, dear,” Jocelyn pushes his feet off the table, “Do remember to go the advisor’s today.”

“Ugh,” The King tips his head back and groans, “Has it been ten days already?”

“It has.”

“I can accompany you Jace,” Simon leans his elbows onto the table next to Alec. Simon had beat Alec in chess after dinner the previous night. Alec is both wary of and impressed by anyone who beats him in chess.

“Please do Simon, you are better at the particulars than I,” The King admits, “We will leave immediately after breakfast.”

“Your advisors do not come to you, my King?” Alec asks.

The King grits his teeth at the moniker, “No, we have a governance building outside the gate, they work there.”

“It’s quite an impressive ordeal,” Simon addresses Alec, “You should stop by to discuss the treaty with them. They can help you draft.”

“Good idea,” Alec tips his head, more to get under the King’s skin than anything else, “Thank you Simon.”

They finish their breakfasts and Alec helps to clear the table. He holds a platter while Clary stacks plates on it. He dries while Jocelyn and Clary wash and rinse.

“It’s nice to have a fifth set of hands around here,” Jocelyn grins.

“Speaking of,” Alec dries silverware, “Where are the stables? Rafael took our horses when we arrived.”

“Round the back, I’ll point out the right hallway when you leave,” Jocelyn assures.

“What do you care for the stables?” Clary asks, eyebrow raised, “Your horse is in perfectly good hands, I assure you.”

“No doubt,” Alec agrees, “I merely wanted to assist the King. He mentioned yesterday that he is responsible for the upkeep and I enjoy horses.”

Clary scoffs, “Like you’d even know how to manage a stable.”

“I do,” Alec dries the last of the platters, “In my Kingdom, all men of royal blood must undergo the same training as all of the knights. I was a squire for two years, much of it spent in the stables.”

Clary bites her tongue, though is is obvious she has a retort. She swallows it down, and unties the apron from around her waist, “I will show you the way.” She kisses her mother on the cheek and leads Alec out a back doorway.

“I must ask about the pantaloons,” Alec points at her knees as she walks down the hall.

“You must? Why? Will you die if I don’t tell you?”

“Possibly, of curiosity. Do you find them comfortable?”

“Do you?” Clary snaps, pointing at his pants. Her animosity is met by a small smile from Alec.

“It is too bad the King has no interest in wedding my sister. I believe she would enjoy it here. She hates courtly manners and longs for more clever woman to interact with. Within a week, she’d be wearing pants herself.”

“Really? She’s not one of those stuffy royals who are dictated by their position? It doesn’t run in the family?”

Alec shakes his head, following Clary down the halls and tracking the directions, “She detests it. She’s known since she could think that she’d end up married for power. She’s rebelled in any way she can besides denouncing her title.” He sighs, “It really is too bad. She and the King are both fire. And you, your mother, Simon, she’d love. It was almost too good to be true. Now she will have to wed a stuffy royal whose actions are dictated by their position.”

Clary purses her lips, “If only your parents had allowed their children to marry for love rather than for political gain.”

Alec laughs out loud at that, “Marrying for love? In this realm? No one marries for love.”

“I am marrying for love.”

“You are an anomaly, not a rule. How does one marry for love? Should I put my studies and duties at bay to trounce around the Kingdom until I find a maiden who makes me feel giddy? And now that I have this love, this supposed love, how does she learn courtly manner? Does she understand our Kingdom’s economy? And what happens when our love burns around us?” They turn around an old narrow staircase, Alec philosophizing to the back of Clary’s head, “No, it would not work on the large scale. I am happy for you and Simon, you seem to truly love each other, but for the good of my Kingdom I will marry someone who knows what is best for my Kingdom.” The reach the bottom of the stairs, suddenly in the stables. Alec steps up to Clary, “And the King should as well.” He steps away, walking past the stalls and looking for his own horse.

Clary pauses long enough for Alec to count to five, the effect of his words stilling her feet. He grins when after seven moments, she rushes up the stairs. He won’t need the two months at this rate.

******

Alec is mucking the last stall when the stable doors are thrown open, “Good Day my beauties!” Alec stills his rake, sweat dripping from his brow. He stays silent as the King walks through the stalls.

It is a small stable for a royal one with only 12 of the twenty stalls filled. Alec is in the largest stall. It had held a beautiful white stallion, of course the King’s horse. Alec had put the horses out to pasture as he tidied.

Alec hears the King pause at the first stall and then his feet quicken as he runs down the row looking for his horses. Alec stands, prepares his smirk. His face falls when the King appears in front of him, eyes wide and hair falling from the smart ponytail always afixed at the base of his neck. The genuine concern in his face pushes Alec’s heart down into his stomach.

“My King,” Alec bows his head, “I thought I would finish before you arrived.”

“Where are they?”

“The pasture my King,” Alec mumbles, “Apologies.”

“Of course, no need to be sorry,” The King straightens himself, “You’ve done nothing wrong. In fact,” The King looks into the stall Alec is finishing and peers into the others, fresh hay scattered, “I believe I should be rather grateful. With your arrival, it has been too long since I have cleaned all of their stalls.”

“It is the least I can do. You have graciously allowed me to stay.”

The King smiles, leaning against the door to the stall in his common clothes, “I’m sure this is not what you were expecting when you arrived. A King who does his own housekeeping.”

“You’re right, I was not expecting this,” Alec props his chin upon the end of the rake, “I expected you sitting atop a throne of gold, surrounded with beautiful men and women alike, all fawning for your attention.”

The King grimaces, “Never. I do not understand that type of nobility.”

Alec bites his lip, the King lengthening his neck and looking to the ceiling, “This is the last stall. I will spread the hay and then we can retrieve the horses.”

“Let me help you,” The King grabs the bale of hay, sprinkling the area Alec has already taken care of as Alec mucks the last bit of the stall. The King reaches for the bucket, but Alec pulls it away from him.

“I will take it sir,” Alec picks up the bucket, full of horse droppings and walks out to the pasture, dumping the bucket with the pile. The King follows behind a minute later. Alec has not seen the King in direct sun since his first day and it is a sight again. He lights up under the afternoon glow, skin radiating warmth and teeth sparkling in his smile. Alec watches as the King whistles to get the horses attention. Once a few have turned their heads, he waves his arms and they trot back to him. Alec steps up to him, “It is good you came when you did. I would have gone out and roped them one by one to bring them back.”

“Would have been quite the sight,” The King grins as the first horse reaches them. Alec recognizes her and remembers the correct stall. He grabs her mane and leads her into the stable, Jace leading two other horses behind him.

They make quick work of it, even Alec’s horse having learned the routine. He stays a moment in his stall, patting his flank and reassuring him that they will get back to their friends in the north soon enough.

Alec locks the stall door and looks for the King. He expects the King to be in with the white stallion but instead finds him with a chestnut mare, “Is this your horse?”

“She is my second horse, Berry. My third horse is the stallion,” The King has his arms wrapped around the mare’s neck, slowly stroking, “You did a wonderful job on their manes.”

“Thank you my King. I did not realize you were so fond of horses,” Alec lies.

“Yes,” Jace nods, “that is because of my first horse.”

“Which horse is that?”

“He’s been gone for many years,” Jace tilts his head up, sliding so he can pet down Berry’s soft nose, “He was a gift from my father on my eighth birthday, I called him midnight because his coat was almost navy like the night sky. He was just a foal then.”

Alec does the math in his head, knowing the horse should still be alive,“Did something happen to him?”

The King places a kiss to Berry’s nose and turns from her, locking the stall. Alec waits, patient, “My father was a cruel man. I treasured that horse and watched it grow from infancy. On my 9th birthday, my father told me to love is to destroy and to be loved is to be destroyed.” The King turns his back, walking to the staircase. Alec follows at his right shoulder, “he handed me a sword and told me to fell Midnight. When I would not do it, he did it for me.”

Alec’s jaw seizes, clenching on air. He is transported, seeing the King as a young boy with a man’s sword in his hands. Without thinking, he reaches out his hand and caresses the back of his left hand against the King’s bicep, “I am sorry.” The touch is brief but the King falters in his steps.

“Thank you,” the King stutters out. They reach the first step and Alec follows behind the King, watching the tension play across his shoulders under his thin shirt.

******

“Not again,” Alec mutters.

“Want to try for 7 out of 13?” Simon bounces his eyebrows and the King laughs heartily behind him.

“I thought you were a master strategist Princey,” the King jests but Alec knows it is all in good faith. He hides his face in mock shame in his hands as the King speaks, “Yet you can’t seem to beat a tradesman.”

“I thought I had you that time,” Alec insists.

“You almost did. You’re definitely getting better. Again?”

“No,” Clary chimes in, “No, we are going to bed love.”

“Of course dear,” Simon stands, “See you gents in the morning.”

“Night.”

“Night Simon, Clary,” Alec tidies the board and puts the pieces back in their bin. The King yawns in his chair, “Probably a good idea for us to get to bed too.”

“You’re probably right,” The King stands, stretching once, “Come along, I’ll walk you to your room.” Alec grins small. He is quick to stand and follow the King through the halls, his sleep heavy eyes captivating.

*****

“Not again,” the King yelps. He had left his left side exposed and Alec took the opportunity. Alec smirks and moves the rapier away from the King’s ribs. When he doesn’t speak the King pouts, “And look, not even a brag about it. Best a King in fencing too many times to count and you have nothing to say. Let me guess, you are so respectful and dignified you will not rub it in my face.”

“Not at all,” Alec sets the rapier with the others on the stand, “I am merely bored from repeatedly beating you. Too bored to think up a witty response.”

The King’s face pouts around a smile, head shaking, “Aren’t you so clever?”

“I thought I was until Simon beat me twenty one times in chess.”

The King shelves his rapier as well, “What now, too early for dinner, too late to start any big projects.”

“We could start outlining that treaty?” Alec suggests.

The King pushes open the courtyard door, “No, not enough time. Let’s go pick some berries. If we find enough, mother can bake us a pie.”

“I’m right behind you, my King.”

******

Clary sits on a window ledge, overlooking the sea. Alec stumbles passed, book in hand. Her bright hair catches his eyes against the drab palace walls.

“Clary dear?” she does not turn at his voice. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, hands it to her with his back turned.

“Thank you,” her voice trembles.

After she blows her nose once, he climbs onto the sill with her, placing an arm around her. He doesn’t stare at the red ring around her eyes, “He’ll be back soon enough.”

“It’s his last one,” she crumbles his handkerchief in her hands, “We’re so close, I have fears I’ve never had before.”

“In 15 days time, he’ll run through the doors with his arms wide open for you. How does that sound?”

She suppresses a smile, “Wonderful.” Another tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes it gently away with his finger.

He didn’t hear the footsteps approach but he hears them click away after he presses a brief kiss to Clary’s hair.

******

The King tilts his head back, laughter filling the air.

“It is not that funny,” Alec frowns, covered in mud.

“You fell off the horse!” the King roars, “And she is so mellow, she did not move a muscle. But you slid off.”

“I don’t ride bareback often,” Alec insists.

“I’ll have to teach you,” the King holds the horse steady, “Grab onto her mane.”

“I know how to do it,” Alec grumbles, “It was foley.”

“I will ensure it won’t happen again,” The King puts one hand on the mare and the other on Alec’s thigh. Alec startles, nearly slipping off again. The King chuckles and tightens his grip, moving his hand up to Alec’s hip. Alec shakes himself out of his fluster, leaning forward on the horse, hands in the mare’s mane.

The King mutters, “Rely on the strength in your thighs rather than your hands. Settle yourself low.” Alec listens, breathing with the mare and leaning into the King’s words.

*******

“Could you grab this plate love?” Jocelyn holds out a tray for Alec. He grabs it. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Alec pushes backwards through the door, plate held aloft. The cod smells the same as Jocelyn’s usually does, with garlic and lemon. He pats himself on the back for a, hopefully, successful first venture into cooking.

“The chef has graced us with his presence,” The King lounges, as usual, in his chair at the head of the table.

“If I were truly the chef, I could dictate who eats,” Alec toys. The King grins wide, keeping his eyes on Alec as he plates the dish on the King’s setting first, followed by Jocelyn, Clary and himself last.

“Alec, we have a surprise for you,” Clary leads, setting her elbows on the table, a letter in her hand.

“What is that?”

“A messenger dropped it off today,” Clary holds the letter out to him, his mother’s seal unbroken on the front.

“Read it aloud,” Jace directs.

Jocelyn whacks the back of his head, “Would you want to read your letters aloud?”

“No, but I am the King. I do not get told what to do but I tell others at my leisure,” he jests. Alec runs the letter over his fingertips, the soft paper striking a nerve and momentarily transporting him back to his home, the castle of formality and custom. He’s broken from his spell by Clary’s yelp.

“Ridiculous, you’ve never been a ruinous King and you won’t start now.”

“Fine,” the King yawns, stabbing a potato, “Let Alec keep his secrets. But it may contain political information in which case, that falls under my territory.”

Alec stiffens. It almost certainly does contain political information concerning the King’s impending arrival to the North. Alec stuffs the letter into his back pocket and sits at the King’s right.

“Probably gossip more than anything else,” Alec pushes the topic aside, “Enjoy the meal everyone.”

“You should hope we won’t,” The King laughs, “For then we will make you do it more often.”

“I didn’t mind it. There was something soothing about the process,” Alec cuts into his fish and, gratefully, it is cooked well.

When dinner has ended, Clary and the King have done all of the dishes, and good nights have been passed around, Alec follows the King back to his chambers. He keeps a hallway of space between them but the King still catches him, pausing around a corridor and waiting for Alec to turn.

“I thought you were done following me to my chambers?” the King winks.

“I wanted to talk to you privately and your chambers are the only place I’ve been successful in doing so in the past,” Alec falls into step next to him, opening the King’s door when they reach it.

“Well, what is it then? News from your mother?” the King sits in his chair, the red upholstered wingback closest to the door. Alec takes the one he thinks of as his own, this one closer to the bookshelves. He often sits in the King’s antechamber, reading the books the King has chosen to separate from the rest of the collection in the library.

“I do not know,” Alec pulls the letter from his pocket, seal unbroken, and hands it to the King. The King takes it. He turns the envelope over in his hands, quirks an eyebrow and looks at Alec. “You should know,” Alec continues, “When I sent Rafael, I gave him the message that you needed to gather your affairs before coming but that you acknowledge the legitimacy of the treaty. The letter probably contains questions asking about our time frame for our arrival North.”

“I knew you were trying to convince me into it those first few days,” the King grins, “Are you still trying to convince me?”

Alec runs his fingers over the arm of the chair, “Honestly, my King, I do not know.”

The grin stays fixed on the King’s face as he ducks his head. He breaks the seal with his thumb and unfurls the letter, “My dearest Alexander, As I write, it has been 30 days since you left us, longer as you read this. Please keep me posted on your dealings with the King. We can be ready at a moment’s notice for the wedding but a timeframe would be appreciated. Isabelle-” the King stops, folds the letter and hands it back to Alec, “the rest is sentiment I will allow you to read privately.”

“Thank you my King,” Alec purses his lips, waiting for the King’s reaction.

The King rests his chin on his palm, eyes on Alec. He runs his thumb through the hair of his beard, his other hand tapping restlessly against the chair, “I am tempted to marry your sister, if only to keep you by my side indefinitely.”

“My sister is the reason you should marry her. You have my loyalty unending, my King.”

“Not if you are made King yourself. If the treaty falls, she will be sent to another Kingdom and you will take over the North. I may never see you again outside of polite company.” The King, turns away, “If I were to marry your sister, you will be my top advisor and be forced wherever I tell you to go, which will be by my side. It is a tempting situation not to fall into.”

Alec swallows, “then follow through with it. Tie me to you to your specifications, though I will never waiver wherever I am.”

The King stretches his legs onto an ottoman, hands clasping over his stomach, “I would make your sister a very unhappy bride. She would come to resent me and you through her. I will not let myself be tainted in your eyes.”

The sun dips in the sky and Alec stands. He finds a match and lights the candles spread around the room. The eerie glow matches the dust of pink. The early summer wave of heat rolls through the windows, salt coating his skin.

“Write it into the new treaty,” Alec offers, “Write that I must be your delegate to the North, you will accept no one else. Max will rule the North when he has reached an appropriate age and I will split my years between his Kingdom and yours.”

“Your mother would never agree to it,” The King spits, “What right do I have to ask the rightful ruler to be in my court? They’d laugh so hard they’d cause a gust and the treaty would fly off the table.”

“You do not hear me when I speak,” Alec walks to the ottoman, propping himself on the edge next to the King’s feet. He unties the laces on the King’s boots, “I have been raised to be your advisor. I have been trained to protect you with my life and to know all there is to know about the North, our goods, weakness and strengths. King was never a title I was expected to wear. They know this is my place.” Alec sets the King’s boots next to the chair, maintaining eye contact with the King the entire time.

The King pulls his feet down and leans forward. Alec can feel the heat from his body. The King’s hair lies askew. Alec doesn’t breathe, not wanting to break the moment.

“It was not a title I was raised to bear either,” the King confesses, “My brother was the one who was raised to be the brutal monarch, and I his toy to show off to visiting company. All would marvel at the son of those murdered, docile in the King, his brother’s, court. I was meant to be a spectacle and now they call me the True King.” The King lays back, pushing a strand of hair from his face, “You are smarter than I, and kinder. You will pick it up with ease. No, I will not take it from you.”

“My King,” Alec pleads, “You are still not listening. Bestow upon me the title that brings me closest to you and I will never forsake it.” Alec stands. The King stares out the small window and Alec takes it as his cue to exit.

“Alec,” the King states when Alec opens the door, “You will come with me to meet the advisors tomorrow. We will start work on the new treaty. Alert your mother of the change in plan.”

“Yes my King,” Alec whispers as he shuts the door behind him.

Before going back to his room, he stops at the grand balcony. The sea is peaceful tonight, the waves rocking in his heart alone. When he was a child, knights would tell stories of a lake so large you could not see the trees on the other side. Alec found it preposterous, finding solace in the ability to map the terrain in front of him. The boundless had once terrified him.

The sun rests barely above the horizon. Alec would swim to it if his King asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Jace’s voice is soft, “What have I done to deserve your devotion?”
> 
> The floor falls out from underneath Alec, “Many things."'
> 
> Or, Jace and Alec face a threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor violence in this chapter and a lot of pining. Also- probably the closest I've ever come to writing smut without actually writing smut!

“Lower the bridge!” Jace yells to the guards. Both Jace and Alec are dressed in simple tunics, a sword on their hips. Jace had instructed Alec on what to wear at breakfast. He tips his hand to cover the sun beating down and into his eyes as the drawbridge reveals the village beside it. It is the first time Alec has been outside the castle since he arrived. 

“Come on Alec, they only hold the bridge for a moment,” Jace walks steadfast into the crowd. 

The storefronts shock with their jewel tones, wares spilling out onto the streets as the citizens chat with store owners. A woman selling hats waves at the King as they walk past and the King bows his head in return. Others approach, gushing to the King about their child’s birth or a loved ones passing, asking for his blessings. Alec keeps his hand on his sword, seeing each new person as a threat. 

The King melts through the crowds. He exchanges a few words with each person but moves quickly through the group. A smile never leaves his face his hand never twitches to defend himself. Alec recalls leaving his palace in the North with his father, a wall of guards surrounding their carriage and the citizen’s standing at attention as they passed by. If a peasant so much as looked at his father, they were seen as an enemy of the state. For the King, they are his friends. 

“This way, Alec,” the True King motions back for him, turning down a side street that hugs the wall of the castle proper. Rising out of the two-story row houses stands a grey monstrosity. The King heads for the front door, continuing to wave to those he passes. 

A doorman welcomes them, “your Highness, it is so great to see you again.”

“Reginald, you as well, how’s the missus?”

“Well sir, thank you for asking,” Reginald the doorman bows and allows them to enter. The walls are grey stone, the furniture utilitarian chairs with no decoration. 

“It is stark,” Alec mutters to the King. 

“We use our budget wisely and decoration is not wise,” the King states, leading Alec up a stairwell and down a hallway. The King pushes into a room with little preamble, “Miss me boys?”

“Your Highness,” a grandfather with ruddy cheeks steps up, hand extended, “we weren’t expecting you so soon.”

“I’m not here for usual business, this is Alexander,” the King extends his hand, “the Prince of the North.”

The five men in the room all stand and bow. Alec’s eyes widen, they don’t have that deference for their own King but they do a foreign dignitary? Not only has Jace trained his home differently, but the entire Kingdom. 

“How can we be of service, Your Highness?” 

The King answers, “We need to draw up a treaty between our two countries. I’d like a first draft by next week, so let’s begin.” The King puts a hand on Alec’s shoulder and pushes him into a seat at the large work table in the center of the room. 

Debate goes on for a few hours, the King darting in and out of the room to work on projects and meet with other advisors as Alec works on the treaty. By mid-afternoon, the King is ready to go and pulls Alec from the building. 

“Were you able to get a good portion of the new treaty completed?”

“Yes, we had a profitable discussion. Thank you for taking me there. It showed immense trust in me to let me have access to your advisors.”

“Oh, trust you say?” The King spins on his heels to face Alec, “Then what is my name?”

“Your Highness, the True King of the Sea Kingdom,” Alec smirks as he says it, sidestepping around the King toward the drawbridge. 

“Where are you going Princey?”

“Home?” Alec’s hand spasms at his side, realizing he recognizes the King’s castle as his own home.

“We have another stop to make,” the King leaves Alec to catch up behind him, pace quick over the cobbled street. Alec’s hand stays firm on his sword. The crowd parts around the King but not in deference, in joy. Alec can’t squash the smile that floats around the edges of his lips. 

“Here,” the King stops in front of the entrance of an alleyway and Alec steps behind him. 

The sea expands out in front of them, the shipyard alight with people putting in their hard days work. 

“Well look what the tide dragged in,” a burly gentleman yells when the King steps foot on the main pier. 

“How are you still alive you old fart?” the King waves back and to a few other men. 

“You here to show off or help out?” the man approaches them, hand already outstretched. 

“Little bit of both,” the King grasps the man’s hand to shake it, “Captain, this is Prince Alexander of the North.”

“Your Highness,” the Captain bows at his waist. 

“Pleasure to meet you sir,” Alec holds out his hand to shake as well and the Captain grins. 

The King points to where men are unloading crates from a boat, “We’ve got four extra hands between us, need them?”

“To be honest King,” the captain surveys the scene, “We’re just about done-”

There’s a zip through the air that Alec immediately recognizes as an arrow. Acting on instinct, he grabs the King and throws them both to the wood of the pier. He raises his eyes to survey the scene, the King kept safe beneath him. 

“Princey, what on earth-”

“My King,” Alec points to a barrel, immediately to the left of where the King had been standing, “look.”

It’s not an expensive arrow, but it is ornate. A wooden arrow painted bright orange with strips of purple, the head a sharp stone. Alec can tell is it home made, a shop would never sell arrows with such poorly carved shafts. 

The King goes still beneath Alec, looking at the arrow. Alec looks to where the arrow must have been fired from but doesn’t see anyone with another arrow notched. The archer must have sat on top of the wall that blocks the pier from the city, the King a sitting duck with no other security. 

“My King, I think it was a warning shot,” Alec stands, offering a hand to the King, “I don’t think the intention was to harm.”

“You’re right, they intend to harm me later,” Jace turns to the Captain, jaw loose as he watches the scene unfold, “I hope you are not offended by my rescinding the offer of help.”

“No, no, go King,” the Captain shoos them away, “Get him back safe to the castle your Highness.”

“I will,” Alec says, sure.

Jace puts a foot on the barrel, his fists on the arrow, and pulls. The arrow comes loose in Jace’s hands and he immediately snaps it. 

“My King?”

“There’s no further danger Alec,” the King keeps his eyes on the arrow, “you’re right, it was a warning shot. It was to let me know he’s coming for me, but he wouldn’t kill me without confrontation.”

“My King,” Alec approaches him and keeps his voice quiet, “we need to get back to the palace now.”

“The palace is no safer than out here anymore,” The King tosses the parts of the arrow into the ocean, “but I do need to show you something there.”

The King takes off, cutting a swift line through the goods and sailors, Alec trailing in his footsteps.  

*****

Alec hasn’t ever entered this wing of the castle. They walk down a barren hall, a curtain drawn at the end. The King pulls the curtain revealing a makeshift door in a shoddily constructed wall. The King pulls a key from his pocket to open the lock on the door. 

Alec was expecting dark, cold, a dungeon perhaps. Instead, it is another bright room, sunlight shining in through the south facing windows, dust settling around them. It hits Alec, it’s a receiving room. The tall ceilings, the doors branching off in every direction, and the two thrones sitting unused opposite them. 

“My King-” Alec starts but the King stops him. 

“This is not what I wanted to show you,” the King admits, “we cannot get to the other wings of the house without passing through this room."

“Why do you not use this hall? It’s incredible,” Alec breaks off, looking at the views of the sea. 

“Both of my father’s died in this room,” the King admits. Alec sombers, bowing his head in respect for those who had been there before. 

The King doesn’t ask Alec to follow. They march down a side hallway, passing more doors that must have been where the advisors originally did their work. The layout is not so different from Alec’s home, except that the entire castle is laid out around the surging sea. 

The King stops in front of a heavy wooden door. He takes a breath before pushing his weight against it. The door creaks open, very little sunlight filtering through the small slits in the walls. Carpets hang from the walls with animals looking out at them. A crib sits at one wall and a rocking chair across from it. 

The King bypasses the chair and sits on the ground in the corner. He leans against the stone wall, head tipped back. Alec shuffles next to him. 

“This is where-” the King starts, “well, many things happened here. The question is do I tell them chronologically or by the gravity? I have never told this story before.” 

Alec lets the King settle in. He bumps his knee gently next to the King’s and keeps it there, “Tell the story the way you need to tell it.”

The King’s lip spasms once, his eyes closed, “There are few paintings of my mother. Many of my father, very few of my mother. She was only Queen a year when the Mad King killed my father, not long enough for full portraits to be done.” The King turns his head, eyes meeting Alec’s, “She was beautiful from what I can tell.”

Alec doesn’t speak, doesn’t dare to. He sinks further on the wall and listens to the cadence of the King’s voice as he tells his story. 

“The Mad King- Valentine, he kept her alive after he killed my father,” the King says, “they always leave that part out of the stories. He kept my mother locked in this room, with Jocelyn keeping an eye on her and making sure she was strong enough to carry me. He kept her alive for 96 days after he killed my father. He killed her over there, cut me out of her womb and told her- told her he was the only father I’d ever know.” The King swallows, “And he was for many years.”

Alec rests his closed fist on the King’s thigh. The King takes it as it is, a sign of comfort, and wraps his hands around Alec’s fist. 

“I grew up as his son, his second after my brother, Sebastian,” the True King says, “I learned about the courts, and protecting myself, and the follies of the previous King. I sat on my father’s knee when I was young and at his side when I grew older. He was both kind and cruel, the type of man to throw you down and then hand you sweets. Sebastian got the most of his time and the worst of the beatings, but we all adored him, even little Clary. We didn’t realize the rare cruelties brought against us were constants to the people he ruled over.”

“When I was 12, he brought me here,” the King slows, “he told me to sit here, and he sat in that chair,” he points, “and he told me I wasn’t his son. He told me the man who I had been raised thinking was my enemy, was my blood. He told me how my mother cried when he ripped me from her womb.” The King stutters, running a hand over his beard, massaging the sides of his face, “he thought he had saved me. He told me to be grateful. He order me to kiss his cheeks to show my gratitude and-” he breathes, “all I could think was that he had betrayed me.”

“You knew that at 12?”

“Yes,” the King insists, “Immediately I felt the betrayal. Raising me as his own, as a part of a family when he had taken mine from me. It took me two years to betray him. His undoing started in this room.” The King’s eyes dance from corner to corner, watching the dust fly through the narrow slants of sunlight, “He should have killed my mother with me unborn, his hubris was thinking he could change a man’s blood.” The King lets go off Alec’s fist. Alec doesn’t move it from the King’s thigh, there in case he needs it.

“Alec,” the King bites his lip, “I must confess. I know, now, in my heart, that you cannot change a man or where he comes from. I did not know that at 14.”

“You were proof of that at 14, my King,” Alec insists, consoling the King and making him see the greatness Alec had always heard of, “You proved so young that raised in dark there is still light.”

“Yes, that is as they say,” the King lets out a breath, “what I did not know is that you cannot bring light to what is dark. The dark will merely consume it.” Alec takes his hand back, turning his body more thoroughly towards the King, “I know what people say of me, keeping Jocelyn and Clary alive but not Sebastian. Some say I showed immense mercy to my mother and sister that they did not deserve, and others say I committed too great a sin in killing both my father and brother,” the True King pauses, “what do you think Alec? Did I got too far or not far enough?”

“Sebastian was a threat to your life and saw you as a usurper,” Alec knows this story as well, “You could not let him stay in your court any more than the Mad King should have taken you in his. Clary and Jocelyn were never in line for the throne, and god knows you saved them much suffering.”

The King nods, “I did. The Mad King did not discriminate when it came to teaching his lessons to his family.” The King braids his fingers together, clenching them, “Sebastian- he stepped in. Whether it was Clary, my mother, myself. He said it was his cross to bear, his punishment so he could take the throne. His back was decorated in scars-” The True King swallows, hands shaking, eyes open and on Alec, “this is a secret I’d hope I would die with but now I fear it is my undoing. My father should have killed me in my mother’s womb and I- I should have killed my brother when I had my chance.”

Alec jerks back,“My King, but- what?”

“I couldn’t do it,” the King runs his hands through his hair, “he was kneeling there, waiting to be slain and he was the man who had stepped in and protected me so many times. He had not committed his father’s crimes just as I had not died with my father’s death. He was my brother Alec-”

“He tried to kill you-” Alec slips.

“I betrayed him,” the King insists, “I betrayed him when I cut down his father. The justice and revenge that I sought he then looked for. I had him on his knees, defiant as ever and willing to accept his punishment and I would not be the Mad King,” the King’s breath is labored as he pushes out his secret, “I showed mercy, one tenth of the mercy I thought he deserved after all of the times he had protected me. But-” the King’s lips jump again, pained, “but by killing his- our- father, I took away the very reason he had protected me in the first place.”

Alec sits back, his limbs falling heavy against the wall. He pouts, a childish behaviour for the problem before him, “The arrow today? You’re sure it was him.”

“My father’s colors,” the King bows his head, “I exiled him to save his life, and he returns to take mine.”

Alec turns his head, “He will do no such thing. No one will get to you while I am by your side,” Alec whispers, “Jace.”

The King hums once, cold and mellow. He tips his head so it falls onto Alec’s shoulder. Neither move for some time. 

*****

“We will not see them for days now,” Jace murmurs as Clary’s bedroom door shuts behind Simon, freshly back from his last voyage. They had gone out for dinner, to one of the inns near the waterfront. They’d drank ale and had a merry time with Simon’s travelling companions, wishing him well for his life with Clary on land. 

“Hush, that is your sister,” Jocelyn swats Jace’s arm and Alec laughs. 

“I do not blame them,” Alec shuffles next to them, “I cannot imagine being away from love like that for so long.”

Jocelyn grins, puts her arms through both Alec and Jace’s, “It is wonderful to watch.” Her smile flicks off her face for just a moment before it roars back, “Walk me to my rooms, would you both?”

“Of course mother,” Jace rests his hand atop hers on his arm.

“Thank you,” Jocelyn turns to Alec, “Alec, do you have plans to marry?”

Alec’s eyebrows raise almost off his face and Jace laughs long and low, “I think you’ve broken him.”

“I was only curious,” Jocelyn recovers, “He came to pressure you into marriage with the fact you are practically an old spinster. He must have deadlines in his head.”

“I do,” Alec agrees, “have deadlines, but they are all based on the King. My own companionship does not matter until he is wed.”

“And when I never wed?”

“Then I will be without,” Alec replies, “which I do not see as a loss. I will be in good company.”

“Yes! The three of us,” Jace sweeps an arm in front of them, only a few steps from Jocelyn’s room, “running the kingdom together without any need for marriage.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Jocelyn pats both of their biceps, “I don’t plan on being without companionship all of my days. You two will be on your own.”

“We’re not on our own if we have each other mother,” Jace tips his head to peck her cheek, “Good night.”

“Night love, Alec.”

“Ma’am,” Alec dips his head in respect before turning towards Jace’s rooms, Jace right behind him. 

“Do you really not plan on marrying?” Jace questions, fingers tapping against the stone walls.

“If you do not, I do not, no,” Alec agrees.

“What does that have to do with it?” Jace argues, “You will not be stuck at my side. You will have a life outside of mine, you will be a King-”

“I will not be a King-”

“We will discuss that another time,” Jace cuts off the continued argument, “You will be a person no matter what and people enjoy marriage.”

They’ve reached a quiet side of the castle, the waves barely audible in the still night. Alec’s hands hang behind his back, fingers interlocked as he looks to the ground. He chooses careful words, “I’ve not met a girl I’d like to marry.”

“You can meet more people,” Jace offers. 

“I would not like that,” Alec offers, “I am content here, at your side, with the freedom to walk you to your chambers. I am prepared at any moment to die protecting you, it is easier if there is no widow left behind.”

“Alec,” Jace’s footsteps stop. Alec turns, Jace’s arms crossed over his chest, “If I have met anyone deserving of fulfilling and genuine love, it is you.”

Jace’s lips are just slightly pouted, pushed out and towards Alec. Alec breathes. He looks away from Jace’s taut mouth and into his wide eyes, “We were speaking of marriage, not of love.”

It’s Jace’s turn to be surprised, eyebrows raising and bottom lip loosening. Before Alec says or does something he may regret, he turns around and heads back in the direction of his own rooms, “Good night, my King.”

*****

“We should turn back,” Jace shakes his head as the gate is brought up behind him, “They will lock us out when we come back this evening. 

“No,” Alec argues, “Simon and I will be welcomed with open arms. Only you will be locked out.”

“Will you ever learn your lesson my friend?” Simon weaves through the people they pass and keeps up with Jace’s quick step.

“Apparently not as this is the third time.”

“Third time?” Alec balks, “Any revenge they exact will be well deserved.”

“Come along, let’s get out of the heat,” Jace picks up the speed and leads them through the crowds to the advisor’s building.

“If you need me, I will be with the economic advisors,” Simon tips his hat and turns down one hallway while Alec and Jace climb the steps to Jace’s office on the third floor.

“Your Highness,” Richard stands as they pass by him in the library.

“Richard, come, we’re going to further hash out this treaty between our country and the Prince’s. Your help would be welcome.”

“Of course your Highness,” Richard follows them, “The head of the guard will be here this afternoon to evaluate and coordinate further searches for Sebastian and his supporters.”

“Have we heard what success there has been?” Alec closes Jace’s office door behind him. 

“Nothing to scoff at, but nothing to be too excited about,” Richard brings them up to date, “They’ve found multiple hideouts based off of various confessors but some have not been used in many months and it is obvious only one or two have lived in each. We can confirm there is a calculated threat but it is lacking in participants. We believe Sebastian has been here for a year recruiting and has just breached his threshold to attack.”

“That helps me sleep at night, only 100 of my citizens want me dead, not one thousand,” Jace pouts.

“Even if it were a million, none of them would harm a hair on your head,” Alec takes the seat next to Jace at the small table in the corner of Jace’s study. Jace grins.

“You’d take on a million men for me Princey?”

“Your guard would take on a million men, I would take on those who slip through. And I’d win each time, as I’d have more to lose.”

“Bite your tongue,” Jace relaxes into his chair and holds a hand out toward Richard, “Be careful of the sweet nothings you whisper to me in polite company darling.” 

Alec rolls his eyes, “Of course my King. Now, to work?”

“Yes, Richard, what have your prepared for us?” 

“Here is the current draft, your Highness,” Richard hands the scroll to Jace who unfurls it and begins reading. Alec leans back, having read the most recent draft prior and making the edits he wanted. There are still many more drafts to go before he can put it in front of his father, but it is a start. 

Jace takes notes as he reads, scribbling in the margins as well as on a scrap of paper on the table. Alec rests his face on his palm and watches. He attempts to keep his face neutral but the adoration slips on whenever Jace asks for a section to be clarified or for an edit to be made. Alec nods, agreeing to the little tweaks based on the shade of blue Jace’s eyes turn in the dim light of the room. 

“This whole section absolutely must go,” Jace circles a large paragraph and grabs Alec’s attention. 

“That section was added by the Prince himself. He said he would not sign anything without similar wording written in,” Richard insists and Jace’s face pinches together. 

“Dear god Alec, you must be mad,” Jace scoffs.

“What section is this, about the ports?” Alec quirks his head, “Or the beets, there were a few bits I insisted on.”

“The North will send an advisor to the Sea Kingdom to live year round and ensure a good working relationship between the two realms,” Jace reads, “The person may be chosen by the North unless seen unfit by the Sea. The Prince Alexander Lightwood,” Jace’s voice is harsh, “will be the first to hold such a position.”

“Oh that, of course. We already discussed that,” Alec points out.

“In jest,” Jace, exasperation sweating from his pores, pushes forward, “I would never ask that of you nor should you expect if for yourself.”

“There is a reason it is written in there, my King. As Richard said, I would refuse to sign without a similar clause.”

Jace’s lips drop into a quiet oh, his eyes wide at Alec, “Richard, leave us. We will find you when we’ve settled on the wording.”

“Of course, your Highness,” Jace waits until the door is shut firmly behind Richard before exploding.

“What are you trying to do Alec?” Jace stands, paces, “I would not ask this of you, I would never want that life for you.”

“Can I not choose the life I want for myself?” Alec stays seated, let’s Jace work through his frustration. It is obvious, even this early in the argument, that Alec will win because he knows it’s what Jace wants. 

Jace shouts, to encourage and embarrass Alec, “Do not let fear strip you from your birthright. You would so easily give up what I killed for? Do not be a coward!”

“Coward?” Alec leans forward in his seat, “I do not know of fear beyond the fear of leaving your side. Do not think me ungrateful, think me moved and wondered by you. It would be easy and smart to spend a life on a throne. I do not want either of those, I want hard, I want sacrifice, I want to know you are safe each moment and to know that know one will hurt you without getting through me first,” Jace has stilled across the room, kept in place by the ferocity of Alec’s words. He takes a breath, settles, “That is my courage.” 

Jace sits on the corner of his desk, papers strewn over it wrinkling under him. In the moment, he looks small. His head is bowed, lips pursed, arms drawn close protecting his heart. It is the first moment Alec has seen him that has not screamed his station. 

Jace’s voice is soft, “What have I done to deserve your devotion?”

The floor falls out from underneath Alec, “Many things. The first was be born a man.” Alec chuckles, but Jace doesn’t grin back, so he continues, “You saved your kingdom, showed great mercy.” Alec stands and walks to Jace leaving him only a foot of space to whisper across, “The list goes on, the way you talk to your people, how you tend to horses. It ends with the new boots you left in my room yesterday.” Jace does react to that, glancing away, “you were the only one who knew my old ones were wearing out, so do not pretend it was not you. That type of compassion,” Alec rests a hand on Jace’s shoulder, “inspires my deepest loyalty.”

Jace looks at him, seeming just as floored as Alec was moments ago, “Your loyalty is too great a gift for me to accept.”

“It is not something you can return. It is still there whether you use it or not.” Alec tenses his fingers around Jace’s muscle before letting his hand drop. Before it can reach his side, Jace grabs it.

“I will never use it, only treasure it. And return it tenfold.” Jace releases Alec’s hand and stands, “I will allow this clause only because I selfishly want it to stay. Let’s continue with the rest of your unruly demands and see what you will budge on.”

Alec grins at Jace’s retreating back, “Yes, my King.”

******

Alec is curled up with a book, waiting for Jace to return, in the wingback chair in the antechamber to Jace’s room. The sun set while Simon and Jace were still at the docks. Alec made a plate from dinner for Jace but if Jace is gone much longer, Alec will have to go back to heat it up. 

“What a welcome sight to return to,” Jace sloshes into his room, body worn and stained in the candlelight. 

“I see you overworked yourself again trying to prove yourself,” Alec marks the page and sets the book down, “Nothing new there.”

“As if you’d want me to change,” Jace drops heavy into his chair, “Is this for me?”

“Of course,” Alec comments, “I didn’t want you to go to bed without eating.”

Jace pauses, looks at Alec. This look haunts Alec. Jace uses it more and more frequently and each time Alec stalls, his heartbeat slowing to the beat of Jace’s eyelashes. He feels naked, every intention and desire written on his skin and Jace choosing instead to stare into Alec’s eyes. 

“Thank you,” it was only a moment but Alec struggles to recover as Jace turns to the meal. 

“What kept you tonight?” Alec asks, more comfortable with Jace’s words than his own. 

“Big shipment from across the Sea,” Jace chews between his sentences, “Simon and I were talking to Bigfoot about it and he said a few of his men had caught a recent illness. We volunteered to lend a hand. They were half staffed so it took longer than expected. At least we were able to help a bit to get some of the boys home to their wives sooner.”

“You are so good,” drips from Alec’s lips and Jace inhales sharp.

“I am just a man.”

“A good man, the best one I know,” Alec runs a thumb along his own collarbone, distracted.

“You must not have met many.”

“I could meet them all and know my current conclusion is still right.”

“You think too highly of me.”

“You don’t think highly enough of yourself,” Alec takes in the state of Jace’s clothes, “Why do you not have an attendant?”

Jace snorts, “You mean a dresser? No thank you.”

“But why not?” Alec insists, “It is impossible to bathe in the castle with no attendants.”

“It is mostly my fears. Allowing someone that close to me without a sword is a steep ask,” Jace shrugs, “I bring up a few cauldrons every week or so to bathe with.” Alec knows the pots are in Jace’s room, tucked in a side closet with a modest tub. Alec stands. “And where are you off to?”

“I will help you tonight,” Alec calls, already lighting a fire in the hearth in Jace’s room.

“Come again?”

“I will attend you tonight,” Alec insists, leaning in the doorway, “When was the last time you indulged in a warm bath, weeks, months? Certainly not since I’ve been here.”

Jace swallows a piece of potato, “I don’t recall.”

“Then it is happening tonight,” Alec pushes off from the door and coaxes the fire higher with the little kindling and logs left from the winter. The fire starts easily enough and he’s able to find a hook to hang the cauldron from. 

“Alec,” Jace stands in front of the fire, “this is really not necessary.”

“I know my King,” Alec agrees, “But you deserve a moment of rest in the chaos.” Alec looks through the drawers of the small cupboard next to the tub. There are only a few soaps with withered scents but they will have to do, “Finish your meal and by then the water should be warm enough.”

Jace stays still, doesn’t move until Alec gives him a reassuring smile. He rolls his eyes and sits back down in his chair, pulling the plate to his chin and finishing the meal Alec had prepared. 

The water does take some time to heat but in that time, Alec scrubs out the small wooden tub and fills it part way with room temperature water and scented oils. He pours the boiling water in and leaves it just on the edge of uncomfortably warm. 

“Jace?” Alec calls, “Have you finished?”

“Yes,” Jace has his hands behind his back, unsure, “Thank you for doing this Alec.”

“Of course,” Alec nods, “Come here.”

“For what?” Jace cocks his head to the side.

“I told you I’d attend you tonight, I meant it,” Alec, instead, steps up to him and ever so slowly reaches for the belt at the waist of Jace’s tunic.

“No,” Jace steps back, “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” Alec swallows his nerves, “Please, let me help you relax.”

It’s a quick pause that lasts yet again, their eyes locked and breath held. The standoff ends when Jace steps back into Alec’s space. 

Alec grips the end of the belt and unfastens it, eyes cast down at the work. The belt slips free and falls to the ground with a thunk.

Jace reaches for the edge of his tunic but Alec breathes, “No. Let me.” He pulls the tunic over Jace’s head and casts it aside, “Turn around.”

Jace turns, head bowed. Alec unties the fastenings of Jace’s pants. It’s then that he realizes he’ll have to brush Jace’s skin with his fingers. He inhales deep before he slides his fingertips to Jace’s sides and pushes the clothing from around them. 

Alec bends to his knees, encircles his fingers around Jace’s calf as he pushes the pant and Jace’s stockings from his feet, “No comment about me on my knees?”

“No,” Jace murmurs.

Alec hums, working on the other foot until Jace is completely bare besides the dashes of mud and soot that speckle his skin. 

“Thank you,” Jace moves his hands to give himself the false sense of modesty in front of Alec when he turns. Alec is distant, miles away, while purposeful and so present in the moment. He ignores the shivers in his arms and the pull in his gut to get closer. Instead, he reaches to check the temperature of the water. 

“It shouldn’t be too hot,” Alec stands and holds out a hand, “you can get in.” 

Jace grasps his hand before he steps over the edge of the tub and sits in the cloudy water. The floral scent barely comes through with the steam rising from the tub. Alec pulls a footstool over next to the tub so he can sit close. 

“Lie back,” Alec grabs the cup and rag he repurposed and waits for Jace to follow instructions. Jace does, sighing and letting his body sink deeper into the water. Alec pauses, dips his fingers into the water before filling the cup and pouring it over Jace’s hair. 

Alec tried to remember how the attendants back home would wash him. He makes sure to put one hand over Jace’s eyes to make sure he doesn’t get any water in them. He unties the ribbon in Jace’s hair and dumps the water over Jace’s head. Once his hair is thoroughly wet, Alec lathers his hands and begins to card his fingers through Jace’s hair. 

Jace makes the smallest hum of approval as Alec massages his fingers into Jace’s scalp. Otherwise, they don’t speak. Alec cleans Jace’s hair and washes the suds into the basin. He wets the rag and works a lather up before running the cloth over Jace’s shoulders. He doubles over the fabric to give a protective layer between his fingers and Jace’s skin. 

Alec puts great care into it, scrubbing slowly up and down Jace’s arms. Jace opens his eyes when Alec starts cleaning each individual finger on Jace’s right hand. Jace’s gaze is heavy-lidded and relaxed as he watches Alec repeat the same on his other hand. Alec gets more soap on the cloth before swiping the rag along Jace’s neck and collar, eyes steady on Jace’s rather than his hand. He makes a circular motion along Jace’s chest, heading lower and lower.

“Stop,” Jace pleads. Alec does, dragging his hand back above the waterline. 

“Sit forward,” Alec orders and Jace complies. Alec moves his hand to Jace’s back, circling each bone of his spine as he swipes the dirt and grime into the now murky water. 

“Would you leave me? Please?” Jace says as Alec’s hand brushes Jace’s tailbone. 

“Of course, how long would you like me to be gone?” Alec asks, wringing out the cloth and leaving it on the side of the tub. 

“You can go to bed Alec,” Jace’s hand lands on his wrist, “Thank you, for this, but I need some time alone. I can clean this up myself.”

Alec’s lips press into a line, “I don’t mind waiting and-”

There’s a crash and both heads flick to the window. Jace speaks first.

“You don’t think-”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Alec ensures, “I’ll go check it out while you finish bathing and will come back to help you clean this up once I’ve figured out what it was. Probably a stray cat who got into the kitchen.”

“Or it could be much worse,” Jace insists, “Just give me one minute to dry off.”

“No, stay,” Alec pushes a strand of wet hair over Jace’s ear, “I can take care of myself no matter the intruder.”

Jace doesn’t look like he’ll give in but eventually sighs, “Fine, go, I’ll follow shortly. If it is a stray cat, maybe we can have a pet for the castle.”

“That’s the spirit,” Alec manages a short smile and stands. He keeps his steps light as he leaves the room, but makes sure to grab his sword by the door as he passes through it. As soon as he is in the hall, he raises the sword to head towards the direction of the crash. Alec keeps his steps light, eyes darting as he goes. He wishes he could’ve locked Jace in his room, kept anyone from getting near, but any lock the King himself would have undone. 

Alec turns down another hall and hears the gentle breeze a body makes when it moves before he’s hit over the head.

*****

Alec can only be out for a few minutes, the jostling of his body waking him though his head pounds. His wrists are bound and he’s being dragged down a small hallway he doesn’t recognize. 

“Good, you can walk now,” his captor says, pulling him to his unsteady feet. Alec is pushed in front of his captor, the point of a knife on the back of his neck, “Walk, the knife will push forward whether you move or not.”

Alec stumbles, tries to cough but there is also a tie over his mouth. He walks, the hall dark and unknown to him. They reach a bend and Alec is pushed to the left, into the grand hall of the castle. 

“Now we wait for my dear brother,” the voice says in his ear, “it shouldn’t be long.”

Through the fog of pain, Alec takes in the situation. He is unsteady, and his arms are tied at both the wrist and elbow so he would not be able to get much force with a backwards thrust of his arms. Sebastian has moved the blade of the knife to Alec’s throat, the thin skin of his neck already cut. They’re bodies are so close that Alec would need to push himself onto the knife to be able to headbut or jostle Sebastian with just his strength. His options are limited, so he listens to Sebastian and waits for Jace to come to his rescue. 

It doesn’t take long, Jace crashing in only a few still minutes later. He’s bare chested, only pants tied hastily around his waist and his hair still dripping. Alec is an all to willing damsel, he’d swoon at the sight but he is cognizant of the danger at his back. 

“Did you hurt him?”

“It’s been many years brother,” Sebastian’s breath is hot on Alec’s ear, “No hello?”

Jace is unfazed, raising his sword even higher, “Did you hurt him?”

“He’s a little worse for wear, but nothing that can’t be fixed. He won’t be that way for long though-”

“Sebastian, I swear-”

“Unless you cooperate,” Sebastian finishes strong. The sword drops an inch and Jace’s eyes fly to Alec, Sebastian’s hand gripping his hair taut and the long knife at his neck.

“What do you want? Do you wish to kill me or keep me as a pet?”

“I want you to kill yourself on your own sword.” Alec gasps out a no behind his gag but no one pays him any mind.

“And why would I do that?”

“So that I don’t harm Clarissa or mother,” Jace’s lips press into a line, “or this Prince of yours.” Sebastian tugs further on his hair and the knife cuts that much closer, a drop of blood falling down Alec’s neck.

Jace’s sword arm drops to his side, the other reaching out as he steps forward, “Do not hurt him further, please,” Jac begs.

“This was quite the surprise, young brother,” Alec can feel Sebastian’s grin on his cheek, “I’ve been in this castle for the past week, figuring out how to trap Clarissa. Color me surprised when I realized your Prince would be better bait.”

Jace is a statue, so close but so far. His voice is small, “How do I know you won’t hurt them when I’m gone?”

“You don’t,” Sebastian says, “I still might, but do you want to watch him die a slow death instead?”

“I don’t want him to die at your hand at all,” the words force themselves from Jace’s lips, “If I do this, you will let him go, and he will be allowed safe passage back to the North. Swear it. I spared your life those years ago, do me this courtesy.”

Alec starts shaking with his need to shout at him to stop. He can’t bare it, Jace turning the sword in his hand to grip it with his fist. Alec hardly feels the cut across his neck. 

“Fine, I swear it. As soon as that sword is in your stomach, I’ll send the little Prince home. But if he ever comes back to avenge you, I will not be so kind, agreed?”

Jace looks to Alec. Jace must not see the tears falling from Alec’s eyes because he smiles, “Alec, stay in the North and do not come back here, let someone else take down my brother.”

Alec doesn’t think about anything but the way Jace’s arm tenses as if he is about to raise his sword. With a shout, he thrusts his body backward on to Sebastian, bringing them both to the floor. Sebastian pushes the blade deeper into Alec’s throat, the hot blood seeping into his shirt. 

“No!” Is the last word he hears from Jace’s lips before Alec’s eyes close. 

******

Thirst is the first thing he feels. 

“Alec?” It feels like there is cotton in his ears, blocking the most precious voice in the world to him. He tries to string the words together, but no sound comes out, “Shh, Alec, rest. Don’t try to speak.”

Alec blinks and his King is there, bent over Alec so that the only thing Alec can see is his King and the halo surrounding his hair. There are tear tracks down Jace’s face and his nose is red. Alec makes a note to get Jace the softest handkerchiefs gold can buy. He tries to shift his hand to wipe Jace’s tears, but can’t raise his hand more than a few inches. 

“No, just rest, please,” Jace runs one of his hands down to push Alec’s back onto the bed. Jace keeps his hand on Alec’s gently stroking a thumb along his wrist bones while Jace’s other hand rest on Alec’s head, keeping a curl off Alec’s forehead. 

“You saved me,” Jace doesn’t look away, breath falling over Alec’s face, “and the rest of the Kingdom. Sebastian is dead and gone along with all of his followers. You can rest easy and come back to your full health.”

Alec attempts a smile at that, just a slight upturn of his lips, and Jace- the True King- chokes back a wrecked sob.

“You’ve been asleep for four days,” Jace explains, “I didn’t think I’d ever get you back.”

Alec swallows, pain shooting through his body with the slight move of his wound. He tenses and Jace combs fingers into Alec’s air, “Be careful, your body is still healing.”

As in all of Alec’s dreams, Jace moves closer. His hand from Alec’s wrist comes to rest on Alec’s cheek and Jace’s forehead bumps the ridge of Alec’s brow. A tear hits Alec’s skin. Jace whispers words that are a salve against Alec’s wounds. “You almost took the most important thing in my life from me,” Jace’s words leave his lips like law, “thinking I’d have something that pales in comparison. Do not misjudge my devotion again.”

Alec wants to tug him close but is helpless to do so. 

“Rest, my Prince, rest,” Alec falls back to sleep with Jace’s fingertips tracing the round of his cheekbone.    
  


******

Alec can finally stand on his own. 

“Please, Clary, let me be,” Alec rolls his neck as he takes a step, “I’m not an infant.”

“You also haven’t stood in 10 days,” Clary argues, arms out to catch his weight if he falls. 

“Love,” Simon shakes his head at her, “you couldn't catch him if you wanted to. Let him walk so you don’t get crushed when he falls.”

“Very funny,” Alec grits his teeth when the scar on his neck pulls, “Where is Jace?”

“Last I saw him, he was hiding from you.” Clary smirks as she steps away from Alec, “he’s on the balcony.”

“Then I will see you all after I’ve spoken with the King,” Simon and Clary hover as he walks to the doors. He waves them off and moves quickly down the halls, one hand on the stone wall leading him towards his own personal sun. 

And there he is. 

Jace stands poised as ever, looking out over the sea. His back is to Alec, shoulders cutting out a line from the horizon. He must hear Alec behind him but he stays, eyes on waves. 

“You never came back,” Alec is blunt but tries to lighten the mood, “I may have healed faster in your company.”

“I received word from your mother,” Jace turns his head slightly, the hint of his cheek in Alec’s direction, “She heard about what happened with Sebastian and the danger you have faced here. She requests you come home at once and to leave the treaty be.”

Alec waits for more but Jace doesn’t offer anything further, “And?”

“And what?” Jace finally turns to face him, “You are released from your duties. I am told that you will be well enough to travel tomorrow. I will personally make sure you will have adequate supplies to leave at once.”

“Then it seems we are at an impasse,” Alec, again, attempts to bring frivolity to the circumstances by using the King’s own words against him, but Jace’s face stays shut off, “for I will not go.”

Jace’s right hand pulls into a fist, “You will go. You must want to go home, to your family. You are no longer on a diplomatic mission, you have no reason to be here.”

“I will not go, my King,” Alec takes a step closer to Jace, pushing off the wall that was his support and standing before his King, his love.

“You will go,” Jace’s eyes are fixed to a point over Alec’s shoulder, “You will leave. You will run far from the dangers that lurk by my side. You will go back to your heavily guarded castle where no one can harm you ever again.” Jace meets Alec’s eyes, open and vulnerable.

Alec is struck dumb at the words and at Jace’s face, a work of art starting to crack. Alec takes another step forward, forcing Jace to look up. Alec lowers his voice to soothe his King, “You think I have been here because my mother wills it? Because of duty or order?” Jace doesn’t react, allows Alec to continue, hands clasped behind his back so not to reach out to touch Jace’s tense shoulders, “All along, it has been solely my choice. I am here selfishly, because I find no happiness greater than the calm I feel in your presence.” 

Jace shakes his head. He breaks the eye contact that Alec needed and instead looks to the cut still obvious on Alec’s neck, “I will not allow you to be in harm’s way.”

“Nor will I allow it for you,” Alec soothes, “Which is why I’m needed here, at your side.”

“Alec, please, be rational. Your family, your home, want you back.”

“This is my home.”

“This is where you almost died in my arms,” Jace’s voice cracks, “This is where I cried over your still body. I couldn’t-” careful fingers brush the skin next to the wound on Alec’s neck, “I would not live through that again.”

“You will not have to,” Alec whispers, “the threat is gone and we will face new ones together,” Alec closes his eyes for just a moment, “Tell me you want me to stay.”

“I will not.”

Alec opens his eyes, “Then order me to go. Tell you do not want me here. Tell me you cannot bear the sight of me and you wish not to be near me a moment longer. Say it like truth. It is the only way I could leave your side.” Alec puts the edge of a knuckle on Jace’s chin, lifting his sight back up to Alec’s face, “Tell me you do not want me at your right hand, where I have grown so comfortable, and you’ll be rid of me.”

“I will not lie to you,” Jace’s eyes soften, “You are- I will not order you to go. I could never order you even an inch farther away from me and you would not believe me if I did.”

“Then order me an inch closer,” their chests are almost touching, Alec’s breath bathing Jace’s face. 

Alec sees the moment that Jace gives in to his desire over his fear, “I will not take your will away from you. If you wish to be closer, you have my full permission to be there.”

It is a standoff, their bodies taught and tense, waiting for the moment that will push them over the edge. The moment is a gust of wind, catching the few strands that have escaped Jace’s tie. They dance around the edges of Jace’s face and Alec needs to feel them tickle his cheeks. He leans in, Jace pushing up at that same moment. 

It is fire. Jace’s body fits close to him, folding into Alec’s frame. Alec wraps his arms around Jace, pulling him in as his lips push against Jace. He must brush his lips against every edge of Jace’s, his jaw, his cheeks. There is not a spot of Jace that Alec wants to leave clean. Jace allows the folly, tipping his head back with a gasp as Alec maps the lines of his unmarred throat. 

“I did not have a weakness,” Jace’s voice is hoarse as his fingers grip into Alec’s shirt, “until you walked through the door.”

“I am not your weakness,” Alec tips his head up, hovers again over Jace’s lips, “I am your strength as you are mine.” It’s Jace who pushes Alec into the stone walls of the castle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue- aka an excuse to write sappy Jalec in a royal setting- is next.


	3. "Epilogue"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six months later- sappy in love Jalec.

“How did you stand the cold all of those years?” Jace is bundled up in twice as many furs and coats as Alec and continues to complain. 

“I am the Prince of the North, it’s in my blood just as salt is in yours.”

“I remember you having a much easier time adjusting to the sea air than I am having,” Jace grumbles as they near their destination. 

“That’s because I do not complain as much as you,” Alec dismounts from his horse, grabbing the reins of Jace’s horse as well, “Come down and walk with me.”

“But we’re so close, we can gallop to the gates in a minute!” Jace’s nose is red, peeking through the scarves Jocelyn had sent him with. Alec grins. 

Alec waves the two guards that had come with them for the journey to catch up with them. It is customary for them to ride just within sight of Jace and Alec, Jace wanting to feel alone and Alec wanting Jace protected. The guards approach them and Alec hands each of them a set of reins, “Please announce us and have them put the horses in the stables.”

“Yes sir.” The guards head off towards the looming gates, still far enough away that the northern guards will not be able to see Jace and Alec walking. 

“Come on,” Alec tugs Jace off the path and out of the light snowfall. He grabs Jace’s hand in his and walks within the treeline, enjoying their last few minutes of peace before the hell begins. 

“Ah, I see,” Jace tugs Alec close, “you want me to yourself.” 

Jace teases, but Alec answers truthfully, stroking the back of his fingers down Jace’s cold face, “Yes, I did.”

Jace melts into Alec at that, warmed by their proximity, “you’ve got me.” Jace steals a kiss from Alec under the shade of the large pine trees surrounding them. 

Alec pulls back and traces a thumb along Jace’s lip, “I will miss you while we are here.”

“No, you won’t,” Jace’s arms are tucked into Alec’s cloak, seeking his warmth, “I will never leave your side. Any affections that slip from my tongue or by my hand we will explain away as southern customs.”

“Do not tempt our fate, my dear King,” Alec cautions. “They will be distracted due to the wedding, but they will still watch me.”

“Let them watch you, let them love you and tell you how they wish you could stay,” Jace kisses the corner of Alec’s jaw, “But know I won’t allow it.”

“I wouldn’t dare think of it,” Alec sighs, “Walk with me, they will be expecting us at the gate.”

“Yes, Love,” Jace keeps one arm looped into Alec’s cloak as they walk. Alec smiles. 

*****

“Your Highness,” Maryse curtsy’s at Jace’s arrival in the great hall, Jace still in awe at all the courtiers and noblemen lining the walls, “so great to have you here.”

“It is my pleasure, your Majesty,” Jace bows as well, having had Alec drill him with the courtly manner of his station over the past several weeks. 

“My son,” Maryse, having addressed the highest rank in the group, turns to Alec, “you look wonderful, the warmth has done you well.”

“It is good to see you mother,” Alec bows as well, knowing she will take her guard down later in her office. 

“Come along, we must introduce you to the Princess Isabelle,” Maryse leads them through the room to the front of the line where everyone is paying their respects to the betrothed.

“Alec!” Izzy cries when they get closer. She, without caring for those around, runs to hug Alec then and there. 

“Hello Princess,” Alec holds her tight, “how are you?”

“Well, very well,” Izzy’s smile is wide and light, “almost married! How are you? We’ve missed you so.”

“Sister, let me introduce you to the King of the Sea, his Highness Jonathan Christopher.” They bow and curtsey as is appropriate and Izzy turns right back to him. 

“Come on Alec, walk with me, we will catch up.”

“While I would like nothing more,” Alec pats his sister’s shoulder, “it has been a long ride and the True King should be getting some rest before dinner.”

“Then I’ll show you to your chambers,” Izzy brightens again, “Your Highness, we’ve made up the best accommodations we have to offer for you.”

“That will not be necessary,” Jace insists, “Alec assures me there are servants quarters connected to his rooms. I’d like to stay there, as I’m sure they’ve been unoccupied in the last year.”

Maryse and Izzy frown at that, Maryse rushing to correct the King, “Your Highness, I can promise those rooms are not fit-”

“Mother, Izzy,” Alec cuts them off, “the True King means not to be rude-” Alec glares from the corner of his eye at Jace- “He merely prefers me close after the incident last year. Events may have gone very differently if I had not been writing the treaty with him-” Jace smirks before muffling it by his hand, “in his chambers when his brother had attacked.”

Izzy and Maryse share a quick look. Maryse nods, “Well, then Alec, you know the way to your rooms. We will see you at dinner.” With that, Maryse walks away. 

“Alec,” Izzy says, leaning up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Come find me once his Highness is settled and we will go for a walk.”

Alec grits his teeth as Izzy falls back on to her heels. He knows he will not be able to avoid her the whole week and the longer he puts it off, the more she will pry, “Yes sister. I will find you.”

Jace follows Alec out of the main hall, “I thought my castle was egregious, but this is a whole other level, Princey.”

“We are not a Kingdom lacking in wealth and we are not afraid to show it,” Alec explains, leading Jace up a stairwell and down long hallways. 

“I will have to stick to you or else I’ll be lost,” Jace quips and Alec grins at him, finally reaching his bedroom. It is not as dank as expected, someone has been keeping up the room while he is away and there is already a fire started in the fireplace, “Oh yes.”

Jace plops down on the carpet in front of the fireplace, cuddling down and into the warmth of it. Alec sets down the few packs he had slung over his shoulder as they unloaded their luggage, “don’t let an ember burn you.”

“Don’t expect me to get up from this spot for the duration of our stay.” Jace is still wearing three cloaks and furs, unwilling to take them off in the great hall due to the wind coming in through the cracks in the windows. 

“You’ll die of heat sickness and I’ll have to step on you to stoke the coals,” Alec sits next to him, leaning over Jace’s face. 

“Perfectly acceptable,” Jace closes his eyes and hums, the fire flickering across his features and captivating Alec. 

Alec reaches careful fingers to the clasp on Jace’s outermost cloak. He flicks it open, using his hands against Jace’s body to push it off his shoulders. He does the same with the next layer. 

“How many layers do you plan on ridding me of?” Jace murmurs, eyes half lidded when he looks at Alec. 

Alec snorts, “Not as many as you’d like me to, I’m sure.” Alec undoes the final coat and pushes Jace’s arms out of the sleeves. He shifts down to Jace’s feet, undoing the wet boots from his feet and hanging Jace’s socks to dry by the fire. 

With Jace down to suitable level of clothing, Alec surprises him by lifting him up. Jace squawks but allows Alec to put him on the large canopy bed next to the fire place, Alec wrapping him in down blankets. Alec stays on top of the blankets, fingers smoothing through Jace’s hair. 

“Planning on joining me?” Jace asks, lifting the blanket for Alec to curl into him. 

“No, I should go to my sister,” Alec negates his words by rolling close and resting his head against Jace’s chest with a content sigh. 

“That’s what you should do, but is it what you want to do?” Jace runs his strong arms down Alec’s back, soothing him. 

Alec takes one more moment with Jace before nodding his head, “Yes, it is, I have not seen her in so long. No matter how tempting a nap with you sounds, I need to catch up with her.”

“Fine, I’ll allow it,” Jace lets him go, “but make sure your legion of servants know not to disturb us in the morning. I’ll ruffle the bed covers in the other chamber in the morning, but I’m not leaving your bed early each day.”

“Yes, my love,” Alec pulls himself away with a quick kiss that turns long and persuasive on Jace’s part. Alec leaves with lips bitten and cheeks flushed. He brushes his fingers through his hair to make it look less askew. 

*****

Alec catches up to Izzy right outside of the great hall, “Izzy.”

She hugs him again, “There you are, I thought you must have forgotten your way around.”

“No, I had a discussion with the King,” he follows her lead, guessing their headed to one of the libraries they used to sit in to not be bothered, “So, marriage.”

“Yes!” Izzy takes a short cut up a servant’s stairwell to the third floor, “It’s been quite the year for both of us.”

“How did it happen?” 

“After you sent notice that the marriage treaty was officially broken, mother panicked,” Izzy rolls her eyes, “She sent invitations to all the neighboring kingdoms to send their eligible sons to woo me. We had a big ball with all of them milling around like I was some prize and-” Izzy shrugs, “I hated every second of it. Rafael found me in the gardens and comforted me. I saw him in an all new light and asked him if he wanted to throw his name into the mix.”

“I’m glad it’s him,” Alec remembers the look in Rafael’s eyes when he would talk about Izzy, knowing he has a similar face when he talks about Jace, “He will be good to you.”

“Absolutely,” Izzy agrees, “Mother, of course, wanted someone who would be good for the Kingdom, but we made our case that since you had decided to defect, Raf may make a good crowned Prince.”

“I think he will-excuse me a moment,” Alec catches sight of the castle manager, “I have to discuss something with Meliorn.”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” Izzy follows and calls out, “Meliorn, Alec is home.”

“So I see, how are you, my Prince,” Meliorn tips his head briefly to Alec. 

“I am good, and hope you are well,” Alec nods his head once, “I do need to put in a request for the King of the Sea though.” Meliorn straightens, ready for his orders, “Can you alert all of the staff that would usually be attending me and my room to not enter my chambers? He is still skittish over the events that took place in his castle. It’s not that he doesn’t trust our staff, but he startles easily with strangers and it would be easier for all if staff stay away from my rooms.”

“Understood your Highness, but if he is in your rooms, where are you staying?” 

“In the bedroom next to my chamber,” Alec confirms, “Again, just a safety precaution so that he can sleep better at night. But no need for staff to enter during our stay. We have a much smaller staff in the Sea Kingdom without attendants or chamber maids, we will make do on our own here as well.”

“A completely reasonable request Highness,” Meliorn bows his head once more, “I’ll see to it that it’s done.” With that, he walks off.

Alec, feeling accomplished, turns to Izzy who has an eyebrow quirked. Alec asks, “what?”

Izzy opens her mouth but takes a moment before saying, “Let’s go to the library.”

Alec agrees, heading in the direction of their favorite room to the cozy nook in the back. Alec sits, leaning back into the soft cushions, “How is Max?”

“What was that?” Izzy asks.

“What?”

“The King is sleeping in your room rather than the one we prepared for him and forcing you to sleep in the servants quarters? And who will attend him if the staff doesn’t, you?” Izzy leans forward, chin resting on her fist, “What are you to him Alec, a glorified servant?”

“No, no, you are misunderstanding the situation Iz,” Alec tries to reassure her. 

“How? Do tell how this all makes sense in a way where he’s not treating you below your station?” the cogs keep turning in Izzy’s mind, “Did he force you into that treaty? Force you to stay by his side? Did he hold our safety over your head?”

“No, stop, I insisted on that,” Alec insists, “I didn’t want mother to try and bring me back here, I wanted to stay.”

“Why would you want to stay if he doesn’t treat you as you deserve to be treated?” Izzy, sits up straight, “I’ll give him a piece of my mind you know. I’ll tell him that he is perfectly safe and able to sleep in chambers far from yours-”

“No,” Alec cuts her off, “You don’t understand. He’s done nothing wrong, he is-” Alec stumbles, looking for words, “I asked him to stay closer to me. I cannot be far from him for I am afraid of what will happen if I am not there. I told him about the rooms next to mine and he said he would stay there and I told him to take my bed.”

“Alec, surely you trust our guards?” Izzy sets a hand on his hand, “I don’t know the situation at the Sea Kingdom, but you can trust us here. We can have some personal guards assigned to his room if that would help you sleep soundly.”

Alec runs a hand down his face, “No, it wouldn’t. I need to be able to hear him breathe, to know he is safe.” Alec sleeps best when he can feel Jace’s heart beat against his skin.

He had no intention of telling Izzy about his love but he sees the moment she recognizes his feelings, “Alec, what is your relationship to the King?”

Alec sits forward, voice low, his fingers pulling at a long patch of his beard, “It is ours. I wouldn’t dare label it other than to say I am entirely devoted to him as he is to me.”

Izzy closes up, drawing her limbs in close as she looks Alec over, “you are sharing your chambers, aren’t you?”

“Please be discreet Iz,” Alec pleads, “He carries a piece of my soul with him wherever he goes.”

“Of course,” Izzy reassures, “I would never. Are you happy?”

“Immensely so,” Alec nods, smiling, “You should make a diplomatic trip to the Sea. I can show you our home and our small family. It is a freedom I never thought I’d have.”

Izzy looks as if she’s holding back tears, “I don’t ever think I’ve seen that smile on you before.”

*****

“Did I hold the spoon to your liking, Princey?” Jace teases when they return to Alec’s room from the formal dinner the night before Izzy’s wedding. 

Alec waits for the door to close soundly behind him before he pulls Jace close to him, answering Jace’s question with firm lips and clinging fingers. Alec ends up pushed onto the armchair in front of the fire, Jace on top of him. Jace’s fingers in Alec’s hair pulls Alec’s head back so he is completely at the mercy of Jace’s touch. 

“My King-” Alec’s voice disappears as Jace runs his hand down Alec’s throat, fingers snagging on the scar there, proof of Alec’s devotion. 

“Yes dear?” Jace presses his lips to Alec’s brow line, working his way down to Alec’s cheeks. 

“I crave you, your touch,” Alec swallows, Jace’s hand stills it’s path down Alec’s chest.

“After we are back and in our home,” Jace’s lips linger on Alec’s ear, “We’re not traveling again for a long time. I can’t keep this charade up with you much longer.”

“Agreed,” Alec hums, his arms wrapping around Jace’s hips and pulling him down onto his lap, “Kiss me.”

“No.” Jace retreats and Alec reaches out to pull him back in, but Jace moves to his knees, kneeling between Alec’s spread thighs, “Let me have my fun.”

“Of course, my King,” Alec relaxes back into the chair and follows every order Jace gives. 

*****

When Izzy and Rafael kiss at the altar, Jace’s knuckles bump into Alec’s. Alec stays still, eyes forward, watching his sister wed in a crimson gown. Rafael never takes his eyes off of Izzy and Izzy beams in the pale candle light. 

Alec doesn’t want it. He has no desire for distant eyes on him as he proclaims his love. He wants to bite it into Jace’s neck and kiss it into the crease of his hip. 

Alec glances to his left, his love, his King, applauding the newly wed couple. He leans in, whispers in Jace’s ear, pretends it is a diplomatic comment, “I am so very glad it is not you up there.”

“That was never an option,” Jace insists, “And I am so glad you stayed anyways.”

"Leaving was never an option for me," Alec grins, lost in the churning sea of Jace's smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this. 
> 
> If you ever need another person to talk Jalec with, feel free to come chat with me at my tumblr emmybazy.tumblr.com. I don't really have any friends in this fandom yet but would love to make some!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll post the other chapters next weekend- I just need more time with them. They're written but I'm not entirely happy with the language. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and let me know if you think I should add any tags/warnings!


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